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REMINISCENCES OF PEACE AND WAR 



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Reminiscences 

of 

Peace and War 



BY 

MRS. ROGER A. PRYOR 

AUTHOR OF " THE MOTHER OF WASHINGTON AND HER TIMES " 







Wefo gfltfe 






THE 


MACMILLAN 


COMPANY 


LONDON 


: MACMILLAN 


& CO., 


Ltd. 






I9O4 










All rights reserved 








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■ 7 



Copyright, 1904, 
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 



Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1904. Reprinted 
December, 1904. 



' 06' 



Norwood Press 

J. S. Cusbing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO THE MEMORY OF 

Jflg Son 
WILLIAM RICE PRYOR, M.D. 

WHO GAVE TO SUFFERING HUMANITY ALL THAT 
GOD HAD GIVEN HIM 



Preface 

It will be obvious to the reader that this book 
affects neither the " dignity of history " nor the 
authority of political instruction. The causes which 
precipitated the conflict between the sections and 
the momentous events which attended the struggle 
have been recounted by writers competent to the 
task. But descriptions of battles and civil convul- 
sions do not exhibit the full condition of the South 
in the crisis. To complete the picture, social char- 
acteristics and incidents of private life are indis- 
pensable lineaments. It occurs to the author that 
a plain and unambitious narrative of her recollec- 
tions of Washington society during the calm which 
preceded the storm, and of Virginia under the 
afflictions and sorrows of the fratricidal strife, will 
not be without interest in the retrospect of that 
memorable era. The present volume recalls that 
era in the aspect in which it appeared to a woman 
rather than as it appeared to a statesman or a 

philosopher. 

ROGER A. PRYOR. 



Contents 



CHAPTER I 



JAGK 



Washington in the Fifties — Literary Society during Fillmore's 
Administration —John P. Kennedy, G. P. R. James, Mrs. 
Gales, and Mrs. Seaton — Anna Cora Mowatt . . . 3 

CHAPTER II 

President Pierce's Inauguration — The New Cabinet — Mr. 
Marcy prescribes Court Dress with Varying Results — 
Jefferson Davis — Sam Houston — General Scott — Wash- 
ington Irving — Adelina Patti and Mrs. Glasgow — Advice 
of an " Old Resident 11 and its Unfortunate Result . . 15 

CHAPTER III 

Mr. Buchanan and his Cabinet — Roger A. Pryor's Mission to 
Greece — The Court of Athens — The Maid of Athens — 
The Ball at the Hotel de Ville — Queen Victoria's Dress 
and Dancing — The Countess Guiccioli — Early House- 
keeping in Washington 38 

CHAPTER IV 

The President at Church — Levee at the White House — A 
Dinner Party at the White House — Miss Harriet Lane — 
Lord and Lady Napier — Ball in their Honor — Baron 
and Madame Stoeckle — Madame Bodisco — The First 
Japanese Embassy to the United States .... 47 



Contents 



CHAPTER V 

PAGE 

Great Names on the Rolls of the Supreme Court, Senate, and 
House of Representatives — Pen Picture of Stephen A. 
Douglas — Incident at a Ball — Mrs. Douglas — Vanity 
Fair, " Caps, Gowns, Petticoats, and Petty Exhibitions " 

— Decollete Bodices — A Society Dame's Opinion thereon 66 

CHAPTER VI 

Beautiful Women in Washington during Mr. Buchanan's Ad- 
ministration — Influence of Southern Women in Society 

— Conversational Talent — Over the Demi-tasse after Din- 
ner — Over the Low Tea-table — Hon. John Y. Mason and 
the Lady who changed her Mind — The Evening Party — 
Brilliant Talkers and Good Suppers .... 80 

CHAPTER VII 

The Thirty-sixth Congress — Stormy Scenes in the House of 
Representatives — Abusive and Insulting Language — 
Rupture of Social Relations — Visit from General Cass at 
Midnight — The Midnight Conference of Southern Leaders 

— Nominations for the Presidency — The Heated Cam- 
paign and the " Unusual Course " of Stephen A. Douglas — 
Author of the Memorable Words of Mr. Seward, " Irre- 
pressible Conflict " 93 

CHAPTER VIII 

Memorable Days in the History of the Country — A Torch- 
light Procession in Virginia — An Uninvited Listener to a 
Midnight Speech — Wedding of Miss Parker and Mr. 
Bouligny — The President learns of the Secession of 
South Carolina — Admiral Porter visits his South Carolina 
Friends — The Last New Year's Day in Washington — 
Parting Words in Congress — The Setting Sun of a 
Happy Day 107 



Contents xi 



CHAPTER IX 



PAGE 



The Fall of Fort Sumter — Virginia sends "Peace Ambassa- 
dors " to Washington — Conventions in Richmond — 
Ordinance of Secession — Rally of Virginians — Enthusi- 
asm of the Women — Soldiers' Outfits . . . .120 



CHAPTER X 

March of the Volunteers — Sail down James River — Firing 

the First Gun of the Regiment — A Peaceful Volley . 134 



CHAPTER XI 

A Virginia Tobacco Plantation — " Health, Peace, and Com- 
petence " — Country Dinners — A Negro Funeral — Gen- 
eral McClellan and the Boys' Regiment .... 146 



CHAPTER XII 

Battle of Bull Run — Life at Smithfield — General Pemberton 

— First Sight of the Enemy — A Sudden Change of Base 

— Battle of Williamsburg — General McClellan — General 
Joseph E. Johnston — Battle of Seven Pines — Richmond 
realizes the Horrors of War 160 



CHAPTER XIII 

The Seven Days' Battles around Richmond — Pryor's Brigade 
ordered to the Front — Finding a Wounded Soldier — 
Midnight Watch after the Fight — Work in the Hospital 
— Ministrations of Virginia Women — Death of a Chris- 
tian Soldier — Colonel Brokenborough's Sufferings, Forti- 
tude, and Death — Richmond saved .... 174 



xii Contents 

CHAPTER XIV 

PAGE 

Campaign in Maryland and Northern Virginia — Battles of 
Manassas, South Mountain, and Sharpsburg (Antietam) — 
Winter Quarters in Culpeper — Stories around the Camp- 
fire — Devotion to General Lee — Incidents related by his 
Aide, Colonel Taylor 193 

CHAPTER XV 

The Foraging Party on the Blackwater — Incidents of Camp 
Life — A Hazardous Experiment in "Blockade Running" 

— Letter from " Agnes " — A Colored Man's Views of his 
own Place in Time of War — Fight on the Blackwater — 
Richmond Gossip from " Agnes " 210 

CHAPTER XVI 

The Bread Riot at Richmond, described by "Agnes" — Cor- 
respondence between the President, General Lee, and 
General Pryor — A Great Victory at Chancellorsville — 
General Lee's Order upon entering Pennsylvania — Corn- 
wall's Orders in 1781 — Incident of Vicksburg Cam- 
paign — Dreadful Defeat at Gettysburg — Surrender of 
Vicksburg 237 

CHAPTER XVII 

The Winter of 1863-1864 — Personal Experiences — Patrick 
Henry's Granddaughter — The Spring and Summer in 
Petersburg — Famine, and Some of the Women who en- 
dured it — John tells of the Averill Raid — General Orders 
No. 7 — Domestic Manufactures — General Lee's Dinner 

— His Service of " Plate " 251 

CHAPTER XVIII 

Siege of Petersburg — Fight at Petersburg, June 9 — General 
Lee arrives at Petersburg — General Grant shells the City 



Contents xiii 



— Conference of Pierre Soule, General D. H. Hill, Gen- 
eral Longstreet, and General Pryor — Battle at Port Wal- 
thall — A German Maiden and her Lover — Substitute 
for Medals of Honor — A Perilous Commission — Explo- 
sion of the Mine under Confederate Fortifications . . 270 



CHAPTER XIX 

August in the Besieged City — The Dead Soldier — Return to 
Cottage Farm — General Lee makes his Headquarters near 
Cottage Farm — General Wilcox encamps in Yard and 
Garden — Picket Firing between Friendly Foes — New 
Uses for Champagne Glasses 292 

CHAPTER XX 

Capture of General Pryor — John and the Negro Trader — 
Expedients for the Support of my Family — A New Use 
for Ball Dresses — Capture of the Rev. Dr. Pryor . . 306 

CHAPTER XXI 

Christmas at Cottage Farm — Dark Days of Famine and Deser- 
tion in the Army — The Psalm of Life — A Dejeuner a la 
Fourchette — " Starvation Parties " — The Peace Commis- 
sion — The Irish M.P. from Donegal — General Lee 
reveals the Desperate Condition of his Army — A Visit 
from General Lee 319 

CHAPTER XXII 

General Pryor's Return from Captivity — Story of his Release 
from Prison and Interview with Mr. Lincoln — April 2 
— Defeat at Cottage Farm — Surrender of Petersburg — 
Entrance of Federal Troops — Personal Experiences . 338 



xiv Contents 

CHAPTER XXIII 

PAGE 

Evacuation of Richmond described by "Agnes" — Mr. Lin- 
coln's Entrance into Richmond as related by Admiral 
Porter 354 

CHAPTER XXIV l 

Arrival of Southern Prisoners of War — General Sheridan 
" knows how to make the terms for a house that suits 
him" — "WeVe caught Jeff Davis" — General Sheridan's 
Visit — Frank Expression of a Yankee Soldier — General 
Warren tells us of Lee's Surrender 361 

CHAPTER XXV 

Incidents and Events — Loyalty of Domestic Servants — The 
First Army Ration to Destitute Women — Mrs. Hartsuff 
— Return to Cottage Farm — A Scene of Desolation — 
The Lonely Vigil — Kindness of Negroes and Fidelity of 
Old Family Servants 372 

CHAPTER XXVI 

Tourists — The Reverend Brother and the Young People — 
The Army of Norway Rats — The "Met Bullets" — 
General Grant — The Destruction of Fortifications and 
Change of Base — General Pryor removes to New York 
City 390 



Illustrations 



Mrs. Roger A. Pryor. From a miniature, painted in 

Rome, in 1855 Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

Lady Napier and her Sons. From a photograph by 

Brady, 1858 56 

Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas, nee Adele Coutts. From a 

portrait by G. P. A. Heal)', 1865 70 

Mrs. Cyrus Hall McCormick. From a portrait by 

Cabanel .......... 84 

Hon. Roger A. Pryor. From a photograph, about 

1870 218 

General Robert E. Lee on "Traveller." From a 

photograph by Miley, Lexington, Va 300 



PEACE AND WAR 



Reminiscences of Peace and 
War 

CHAPTER I 

WASHINGTON IN THE FIFTIES 

THE Washington that I knew in the fifties 
was not the Washington of Dickens, Mrs. 
Trollope, and Laurence Oliphant. When I 
knew the capital of our country, it was not " a howl- 
ing wilderness of deserted streets running out into 
the country and ending nowhere, its population con- 
sisting chiefly of politicians and negroes " ; 1 nor were 
the streets overrun with pigs and infested with goats. 
I never saw these animals in the streets of Wash- 
ington ; but a story, told to illustrate the best way 
of disposing of the horns of a dilemma proves one 
goat at least to have had the freedom of the city. 
It seems that Henry Clay, overdue at the Senate 
Chamber, was once hurrying along Pennsylvania 
Avenue when he was attacked by a large goat. Mr. 
Clay seized his adversary by the horns. So far so 
good, but how about the next step? A crowd 
of sympathetic bootblacks and newsboys gathered 

1 "Life of Oliphant," Vol. I. p. 109. 
3 



4 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

around offering advice. " Let go, Mr. Clay, and 
run like blazes," shouted one; and Mr. Clay did 
let go and did run, his senatorial coat-tails flying 
like pennons behind him. 

But this was before my day. I remember Wash- 
ington only as a garden of delights, over which the 
spring trailed an early robe of green, thickly em- 
broidered with gems of amethyst and ruby, pearl and 
sapphire. The crocuses, hyacinths, tulips, and snow- 
drops made haste to bloom before the snows had 
fairly melted. The trees donned their diaphanous 
veils of green earlier in the White House grounds, 
the lawn of the Smithsonian Institution, and the 
gentle slopes around the Capitol, than anywhere in 
less distinguished localities. To walk through these 
incense-laden grounds, to traverse the avenue of 
blossoming crab-apples, was pure pleasure. The 
shaded avenues were delightful long lanes, where 
one was sure to meet friends, and where no law of 
etiquette forbade a pause in the public street for a 
few words of kindly inquiry, or a bit of gossip, or 
the development of some plan for future meetings. 
If one's steps tended to the neighborhood of 7th and 
D streets, nothing was more probable than a meet- 
ing with one of Washington's most noted citizens, — 
the superb mastiff of Mr. Gales, the veteran editor 
of the National Intelligencer ■, as the dog gravely bore 
in a large basket the mail for the office. No attendant 
was needed by this fine animal. He was fully com- 
petent to protect his master's private and official 
correspondence. 

He had been taught to express stern disapproba- 



Washington in the Fifties 5 

tion of Democrats ; so if a pleasant walk with him 
was desired, it was expedient for members of that 
party to perjure themselves and at once announce : 
" I am an ' Old- Line Whig,' old man," and the dog's 
tail would wag a cordial welcome. 

Omnibuses ran along Pennsylvania Avenue, for 
the convenience of Senators, Congressmen, and others 
on their way to the Capitol, — but the saunter along 
the avenue was so charming that I always preferred 
it to the People's Line. There were few shops. But 
such shops! There was Gait's, where the silver, 
gems, and marbles were less attractive than the culti- 
vated gentleman who sold them ; Gautier's, the pal- 
ace of sweets, with Mrs. Gautier in an arm-chair 
before her counter to tell you the precise social 
status of every one of her customers, and what is 
more, to put you in your own ; Harper's, where the 
dainty, leisurely salesman treated his laces with re- 
spect, drawing up his cuffs lest they touch the ethe- 
real beauties ; and the little corner shop of stern 
Madame Delarue, who imported as many (and no 
more) hats and gloves as she was willing to sell as a 
favor to the ladies of the diplomatic and official 
circles, and whose dark-eyed daughter Leonide 
(named for her godmother, a Greek lady of rank) 
was susceptible of unreasoning friendships and could 
be coaxed to preserve certain treasures for humbler 
folk. 

Leonide once awoke me in the middle of the 
night with a note bidding me " come tout de suite" 
for " Maman " was asleep, the boxes had arrived ; 
and she and I could peep at the bonnets and choose 



6 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

the best one for myself. Thus it was that I once 
bore away a " divine creation " of point lace, crepe, 
and shaded asters before Madame had seen it. 
Otherwise it would have been reserved for Miss 
Harriet Lane or Mrs. Douglas. Madame had to' 
know later ; and Leonide was not much in evidence 
the rest of that season. At Madame Delarue's, if one 
was very gentil, very convenable, one might have the 
services of Francois, the one and only hair-dresser of 
note, who had adjusted coronets on noble heads, 
and who could (if he so minded) talk of them agree- 
ably in Parisian French. 

All these were little things ; but do not pleasant 
trifles make the sum of pleasant hours ? Washing- 
ton was like a great village in those days of Presi- 
dent Pierce and President Buchanan. To obtain 
the best of the few articles to be purchased was an 
achievement. 

My own pride in the Federal City was such that 
my heart would swell within me at every glimpse of 
the Capitol : from the moment it rose like a white 
cloud above the smoke and mists, as I stood on the 
deck of the steamboat (having run up from my din- 
ner to salute Mount Vernon), to the time when I 
was wont to watch from my window for the sunset, 
• that I might catch the moment when a point on the 
unfinished dome glowed like a great blazing star 
after the sun had really gone down. No matter 
whether suns rose or set, there was the star of our 
country, — the star of our hearts and hopes. 

I acknowledge that Wisdom is much to be de- 
sired of her children, but nowhere is it promised 



Washington in the Fifties 7 

that they will be the happier for gaining her. When 
my lot was cast in Washington, Wisdom had not 
taught me that the White House was less beautiful 
than a classic temple. To be sure, Dickens had 
called it " like an English club-house," — that was 
bad enough, — but Mark Twain had not yet dubbed 
it " a fine, large, white barn with wide handsome 
grounds around it." " The President lives there," 
says Washington Hawkins. "It is ugly enough 
outside, but that is nothing to what it is inside." 
To my uneducated eye the East Room with its 
ornate chandeliers, fluted pillars, and floriated carpet 
was an audience chamber fit for a king. A triumph 
of artistic perfection was the equestrian statue of 
the hero of New Orleans, now known to be out of 
all proportion, and condemned as " bad " and " very 
bad" by Wisdom's instructed children. Raising 
his hat, indeed ! Why, any man in that position 
would be holding on to the mane with both hands 
to keep from sliding off. And as for the Capitol — 
the sacred Capitol i From foundation to turret it 
was to my eye all that genius and patriotism could 
achieve. The splendid marbles at the entrance, the 
paintings, the bas-reliefs within the rotunda, — these 
were things to boast of, to dream of. Not yet had 
arisen our irreverent humorist to warn us never to 
enter the dome of the Capitol, " because to get 
there you must pass through the great rotunda, and 
to do that you would have to see the marvellous his- 
torical paintings that hang there and the bas-reliefs, 
— and what have you done that you should suffer 
this ? " 



8 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

When our friends came up from Virginia to make 
us visits, it was delightful to take a carriage and 
give up days to sight-seeing ; to visit the White 
House and Capitol, the Patent Office with its mis- 
cellaneous treasures ; to point with pride to the rich 
gifts from crowned heads which our adored first 
President was too conscientious to accept ; to walk 
among the stones lying around the base of the un- 
finished monument and read the inscriptions from 
the states presenting them; to spend a day at the 
Smithsonian Institution, and to introduce our friends 
to its president, Mr. Henry ; and to Mr. Spencer 
Baird and Mr. Gerard, eminent naturalists, who 
were giving their lives to the study of birds, beasts, 
and fishes, — finding them, Mr. Gerard said, " so 
much more interesting than men," adding hastily, 
" we do not say ladies," and blushing after the man- 
ner of cloistered scholars ; to tell them interesting 
things about Mr. Gerard who was a melancholy 
young man, and who had confided to me that he 
had sustained a great sorrow. Had he lost his 
fortune, or been crossed in love, was he homesick 
for his native Switzerland ? Worse than any one or 
all of these ! He had been sent once to Nantucket 
in the interests of his profession. There he had 
found a strange fish, hitherto unknown to science. 
He had classified its bones and laid them out on his 
table to count them. In a moment's absence the 
housemaid had entered and dusted his table. 

Then the visits to the galleries of the House and 
Senate Chamber, and the honor of pointing out the 
great men to our friends from rural districts; the 



Washington in the Fifties 9 

long listening to interminable speeches, not clearly 
understood, but heard with a reverent conviction 
that all was coming out right in the end, that every- 
body was really working for the good of his country, 
and that we belonged to it all and were parts of 
it all. 

This was the thought behind all other thoughts 
which glorified everything around us, enhanced every 
fortunate circumstance, and caused us to ignore the 
real discomforts of life in Washington : the cold, 
the ice-laden streets in winter; the whirlwinds of 
dust and driving rains of spring ; the swift-coming 
fierceness of summer heat ; the rapid atmospheric 
changes which would give us all these extremes 
in one week, or even one day, until it became 
the part of prudence never to sally forth on any 
expedition without " a fan, an overcoat, and an 
umbrella." 

The social life in Washington was almost as vari- 
able as the climate. At the end of every four 
years the kaleidoscope turned, and lo ! — a new 
central jewel and new colors and combinations in 
the setting. 

But behind this " floating population," as the po- 
litical circles were termed, there was a fine society in 
the fifties of " old residents " who never bent the knee 
to Baal. This society was sufficient to itself, never 
seeking the new, while accepting it occasionally with 
discretion, reservations, and much discriminating care. 
The sisters, Mrs. Gales and Mrs. Seaton, wives of 
the editors of the National Intelligencer, led this 
society. Mrs, Gales's home was outside the city, 



io Reminiscences of Peace and War 

and thence every day Mr. Gales was driven in his 
barouche to his office. His paper was the exponent 
of the Old-Line Whigs (the Republican party was 
formed later) and in stern opposition to the Demo- 
crats. It was, therefore, a special and unexpected 
honor for a Democrat to be permitted to drive out 
to " the cottage " for a glass of wine and a bit of 
fruit-cake with Mrs. Gales and Mrs. Seaton. Never 
have I seen these gentlewomen excelled in genial 
hospitality. Mrs. Gales was a superb old lady and 
a fine conversationalist. She had the courteous re- 
pose born of dignity and intelligence. She was liter- 
ally her husband's right hand, — he had lost his own, 
— and was the only person who could decipher his 
left-hand writing. So that when anything appeared 
from his pen it had been copied by his wife before 
it reached the type-setter. A fine education this for 
an intelligent woman ; the very best schooling for a 
social life including diplomats from foreign coun- 
tries, politicians of diverse opinions, artists, authors, 
musicians, women of fashion, to entertain whom 
required infinite tact, cleverness, and an intimate 
acquaintance with the absorbing questions of the 
day. 

Of course the levees and state receptions, which 
were accessible to all, required none of these things. 
The role of hostess on state occasions could be 
filled creditably by any woman of ordinary physical 
strength, patience, and self-control, who knew when 
to be silent. 

Washington society, at the time of which I write, 
was comparatively free from non-official men of 



Literary Society during Fillmore's Administration 1 1 

wealth from other cities who, weary with the mo- 
notonous round of travel, — to the Riviera, to Egypt, 
to Monte Carlo, — are attracted by the unique atmos- 
phere of a city holding many foreigners, and devoted 
not to commercial but to social and political inter- 
ests. The doors of the White House and Cabinet 
offices being open on occasions to all, they have 
opportunities denied them in their own homes. 
Society in Washington in the fifties was peculiarly 
interesting in that it was composed exclusively of 
men whose presence argued them to have been of im- 
portance at home. They had been elected by the 
people, or chosen by the President, or selected 
among the very best in foreign countries ; or they 
belonged to the United States Army or Navy ser- 
vice, or to the descendants of the select society which 
had gathered in the city early in its history. 

During the Fillmore administration there were 
peculiar elements in Washington society. The 
President was born of poor English parents. At 
the age of fifteen he was apprentice to a wool-carder 
in Livingston County, New York, representing in 
his father's mind no higher hope than gradual ad- 
vancement until he should attain the proud place of 
woollen-draper. But at nineteen he had entered a 
lawyer's office, working all day, teaching and study- 
ing at night. When he became President his tastes 
had been sufficiently ripened to enable him to gather 
around him men of literary taste and attainment. 
John P. Kennedy, an author and a man of ele- 
gant accomplishments, was Secretary of the Navy. 
Washington Irving was Kennedy's friend, and often 



12 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

his guest. Lesser lights in the world of letters found 
Washington an agreeable residence. We knew many 
of these men, and among them none was brighter, 
wittier, or more genial than G. P. R. James, the 
English novelist whose star rose and set before i860. 
He was the most prolific of writers, " Like an end- 
less chain of buckets in a well," said one ; " as fast 
as one is emptied up comes another." 

We were very fond of Mr. James. One day he 
dashed in, much excited : — 

"Have you seen the Intelligencer? By George, 
it's all true ! Six times has my hero, a ' solitary 
horseman,' emerged from a wood ! My word ! 
I was totally unconscious of it ! Fancy it ! Six 
times ! Well, it's all up with that fellow. He has 
got to dismount and enter on foot : a beggar, or 
burglar, or pedler, or at best a mendicant friar." 

" But," suggested one, " he might drive, mightn't 
he?" 

" Impossible ! " said Mr. James. " Imagine a 
hero in a gig or a curricle ! " 

"Perhaps," said one, "the word 'solitary' has 
given offence. Americans dislike exclusiveness. 
They are sensitive, you see, and look out for 
snobs." 

He made himself very merry over it; but the soli- 
tary horseman appeared no more in the few novels 
he was yet to write. 

One day, after a pleasant visit from Mr. James 
and his wife, I accompanied them at parting to the 
front door, and found some difficulty in turning the 
bolt. He offered to assist, but I said no — he was 



Literary Society during Fillmore's Administration 13 

not supposed to understand the mystery of an 
American front door. 

Having occasion a few minutes afterward to open 
the door for another departing guest, there on his 
knees outside was Mr. James, who laughingly ex- 
plained that he had left his wife at the corner, and 
had come back to investigate that mystery. " Per- 
haps you will tell me," he added, and was much 
amused to learn that the American door opened of 
itself to an incoming guest, but positively refused 
without coaxing to let him out. " By George, that's 
fine ! " he said, " that'll please the critics in my 
next." I never knew whether it was admitted, for 
I must confess that, even with the stimulus of his 
presence, his books were dreary reading to my un- 
instructed taste. 

A very lovely and charming actress was promi- 
nent in Washington society at this time, — the 
daughter of an old New York family, Anna Cora 
(Ogden) Mowatt. She was especially interesting to 
Virginians, for she had captivated Foushee Ritchie, 
soon afterward my husband's partner on the editor- 
ship of the Richmond Enquirer. Mr. Ritchie, a con- 
firmed old bachelor, had been fascinated by Mrs. 
Mowatt's Parthenia (in "Ingomar") and was now 
engaged to her. He proudly brought to me a pair 
of velvet slippers she had embroidered for him, 
working around them as a border a quotation from 
" Ingomar " : — 



"Two souls with but a single thought, 
Two hearts that beat as one." 



14 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

And oh, how angry he was when an irreverent voice 
whispered one word, " Soles ! " 

" Cora must never hear of this," he declared in- 
dignantly ; " she is, beyond all women, incapable of 
double entendre, of coarse allusion." 

Alas ! I cannot conclude my little story, " And 
they were married and lived happily ever after." 
They were married — and lived miserably — and 
were separated ever after. The single thought was 
how they could best escape each other — and the 
two hearts beat as one in the desire for freedom. 

" The shadow of the coming war was even then 
beginning to darken the land and confuse legislation 
with bitter partisanship and continuous attempts at 
an impossible compromise," but, alas ! our eyes 
were holden so we could not see. 



CHAPTER II 

president pierce's inauguration 

ON the 4th of March, 1853, Franklin Pierce 
was inaugurated President of the United 
States. This was an exciting day for me. 
My husband had written articles for a Virginia paper 
which had won for him a place on the editorial staff 
of the Washington Union, and was now in a position 
to break a lance with my friends, Messrs. Gales and 
Seaton. Mr. Pierce had liked his articles in the 
Union, and sought his acquaintance. A friendship 
rapidly followed which was a happiness to us both. 
So when some member of the staff of the Demo- 
cratic organ must be consulted about the inaugural 
address, the President had sent for my young hus- 
band and had taken counsel with him. 

I was delighted when I received an invitation 
from my good friends of the Smithsonian Institution 
to join them in a pleasant room opening on a bal- 
cony and overlooking Pennsylvania Avenue, where 
we were to have a collation and witness the parade. 
My husband's sixteen-year-old sister, Fanny, was 
with me, and she was literally wild with delight. 
The rest of the party were Mr. and Mrs. Spencer 
Baird, little Lucy Baird, Mr. Gerard, and Mr. 
Turner. Little eight-year-old Lucy was the belle 



1 6 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

of the occasion ; so wise in scientific matters, know- 
ing so much about " specimens " and " extinct 
species " that we felt ourselves heavy and ignorant 
beside her. " Come now, Lucy," said Mr. Turner, 
" I expect you to take care of me on this occasion. 
These are painful scenes for an Englishman. When 
you see the Continental troops coming, give me the 
wink, and I'll slip away and stir the punch. Those 
are the fellows who whipped the British ! " 

The elements frowned upon the change of ad- 
ministration. The sun was blanketed with dark 
clouds, from which the snow fell thickly — not a 
soft, enfolding snow, but snow driven by an angry 
wind. The crowd in the avenue was immense ; 
swelled by the presence of the largest number of 
strangers ever before gathered at an Inauguration, 
the majority of whom were members of the mighty 
army of office-seekers from the party recently come 
into power. From the White House to the Capitol, 
windows, balconies, and roofs were thronged ; and 
the sidewalks of the avenue were filled with a motley 
crowd of men, women, and children, foreigners, gov- 
ernment clerks, and negroes. 

About twelve o'clock the boom of a great gun 
announced the moving of the procession. The 
throng in the streets surged toward the gates of the 
Capitol, and " lined up " on either side awaiting 
the arrival of the cortege. Carriages filled with 
women and children, some of them with the em- 
blazoned panels of foreign ministers, passed rapidly 
in advance of the cavalcade — the police actively 
engaged the while in keeping the waiting crowd 



President Pierce's Inauguration 17 

within bounds. Presently distant music was heard, 
and a mighty cheer announced the near approach of 
the escort. Six marshals in gay scarfs led the pro- 
cession. Then came the " flying artillery," drawn 
by fifty or more horses. An interval, and then pla- 
toons of soldiers of diverse battalions filled square 
after square, and band after band of martial music 
mingled with the cheers of the crowd. 

We were all out now on the balcony, little Lucy 
keenly alert. Presently she touched Mr. Turner 
on his arm and he fled ! The Continentals were 
passing. 

Following these, in an open carriage drawn by 
four fine horses, came our President : the youngest, 
handsomest President we had ever elected. As he 
neared our balcony we stood up, waved and cheered, 
and threw him flowers, and so winning in their 
enthusiasm were little Lucy (her mind being now 
quite at rest about Mr. Turner) and my own young 
sister, that the President rose and bared his head to 
us. 

A platform had been erected over the steps of the 
east wing, and on it was a table holding a Bible. 
The distinguished officials of the time were seated 
around this table, and beneath it the crowd pushed 
and scrambled and struggled for place within hear- 
ing. Instantly there was silence. The slender, 
almost boyish figure of our President approached 
the table, and with bared head under the falling 
snow stood for a moment surveying the crowd. 

His face was pale, and his countenance wore an 
expression of weary sadness. When he took the 



1 8 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

oath he did not, as is the custom, use the word 
" swear." Placing his left hand on the Bible with- 
out raising the book, he raised his right and, look- 
ing upward, " affirmed " that, God helping him, he 
would be faithful to his trust. 

There were tears in his voice, but it was musical, 
and his enunciation was clear and distinct. 

Only two months before, his only child, a beauti- 
ful boy of thirteen, had been killed in a railroad 
collision — killed before his parents' eyes! His 
address began, " My countrymen ! It is a relief to 
feel that no heart but my own can know the per- 
sonal regret and bitter sorrow over which I have 
been borne to a position so suitable for others 
rather than desirable for myself." 

The public does not tolerate the intrusion of a 
man's personal joys and griefs into his official life. 
However willing the world may be to sympathize, 
it considers this indicative of a mind lacking fine- 
ness and delicacy. To keep one's inner self in the 
background should be the instinct, and is surely 
the policy, of every man and woman who aspires to 
popularity. 

There were many who quickly criticised this un- 
fortunate sentence of the President. The Whig 
journals sneered at it as "a trick of the orator to 
awaken personal interest before proceeding to unfold 
his public policy." But he had the sympathetic 
tears of many of his audience. 

His address went on to discuss the annexation of 
Cuba — a dream which lasted through many subse- 
quent years. The Pearl of the Antilles was ardently 



The New Cabinet 19 

coveted as a pendant to our chain of states, but she 
will never belong to us, unless as the result of more 
misfortune. The President then pledged himself to 
the never dying Monroe Doctrine, prayed appeal- 
ingly for the preservation of our Union, and 
touched upon the troubled questions which, despite 
all our wars and sufferings, are not yet fully settled. 
And then, amid cheers and shouts and salvos of 
artillery, he was driven to his new home, and it was 
all over. 

Three days after the inauguration the Cabinet 
nominations were sent to the Senate. Mr. Marcy 
was to be Secretary of State ; Mr. Guthrie, Secre- 
tary of the Treasury; Jefferson Davis, of War; 
James Dobbin, of the Navy: Robert McClellan, 
of the Interior; James Campbell, Postmaster-Gen- 
eral; Caleb Cushing, Attorney-General — four men 
from the North, three from the South. These, 
then, with their families, were to lead the social life 
of Washington for four years. The Executive 
Mansion, shrouded in gloom, could never become a 
social centre. 

We had the honor of knowing well the three 
most distinguished of these men, Mr. Marcy, Mr. 
Davis, and Mr. Cushing. 

Mr. Marcy, the best-known member of the Cabi- 
net, strong, honest, and an adroit politician, was a 
man of rugged and abrupt manners, yet a great fa- 
vorite with the ladies. We at once became keenly 
interested in his initial proceedings. He was sternly 
democratic in his ideas. Absorbing as were the 
cares of his department, exciting and menacing as 



20 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

were the questions of the hour, he inaugurated his 
official life by settling matters of dress and etiquette 
— so far as they related to the presence of Ameri- 
can envoys at foreign courts. President Jackson 
had been supposed to be democratic, but he was a 
bloated aristocrat beside Mr. Marcy. Jackson had 
rejected the prescribed court dress, — embroidered 
cuffs and cape, white breeches, gold knee-buckles, 
white silk stockings, gold shoe-buckles, chapeau- 
bras, cockade, eagle, white feather, and sword. 
Alackaday, that we should have lost all this 
bravery ! Jackson decreed no cape at all (such a 
friendly fashion to laden shoulders), no embroid- 
ery except a gold star on the coat-collar, — but 
breeches and modest buckles, a sword, a chapeau- 
bras with eagle and cockade. 

Now why should Mr. Marcy make trouble by 
meddling with the cut of the garments of our repre- 
sentatives abroad — at a time, too, when such a 
number of serious questions were about to come 
before him ; when filibusters were at work, a war 
with Spain imminent, treaties to be made with 
Mexico, and fishery questions to be settled with 
England ? Simply, I suppose, because great men 
all over the world have condescended to prescribe 
in trifling matters — matters belonging to the chef, 
the milliner, the arbiter of fleeting fashions. It 
would seem that the greater the man the greater 
his appreciation of trifles. Everything to him is 
important — from the signing of a treaty to the 
tying of a shoestring. 

The consequences of Mr. Marcy's meddling were 



The Secretary of State prescribes Court Dress 21 

far-reaching. On June 1, 1853, he issued a circu- 
lar recommending that our representatives abroad 
should, in order to show their devotion to republi- 
can institutions, appear whenever practicable in the 
simple dress of an American citizen. 

Our Minister at Berne found the court of Swit- 
zerland quite willing to receive him in his citizen's 
dress. The Ministers at Turin and Brussels reported 
they would have no difficulty in carrying out the in- 
structions of the State Department. The represen- 
tative at Berlin was at once informed that such action 
would be considered disrespectful. The king of 
Sweden insisted on court dress at social functions. 
Mr. August Belmont, at The Hague, received a cold 
permission from the king to dress as he pleased — 
and it is recorded (as matter for gratitude on the 
part of the American Minister) that after all, and 
notwithstanding, the queen actually danced with 
him in his citizen's dress, and the king conde- 
scended to shake him by the hand and to talk with 
him ! 

Mr. Mason, at the French court, could not face 
the music ! He consulted his wife, and together 
they agreed upon a compromise. He appeared in 
an embroidered coat, sword, and cocked hat, and 
had the misfortune to receive from Mr. Marcy a 
severe rebuke. 

Mr. Buchanan, at the court of St. James, having 
no wife to consult, thought long and anxiously on 
the subject. The question was still unsettled at the 
opening of Parliament in February, 1854. Our 
Minister did not attend, — he had "nothing to 



22 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

wear," — whereupon "there was quite a sensation 
in the House of Lords." "Indeed," he wrote to 
Mr. Marcy, " I have found difficulty in preventing 
this incident from becoming a subject of inquiry 
and remark in the House of Commons." Think 
of that ! At a time when England was on the eve 
of a war with Russia, all the newspapers, court offi- 
cials, House of Commons, exercised about the dress 
of the American Minister ! The London Times 
stated that on a diplomatic occasion " the American 
Minister sate unpleasantly conscious of his singu- 
larity." The London Chronicle blamed General 
Pierce's republican ill manners, and the "American 
puppyism," and continued: "There is not the least 
reason why her Majesty should be troubled to 
receive the ' gentleman in the black coat ' from 
Yankee-land ! He can say his say at the Foreign 
Office, dine at a chop-house in King Street, sleep at 
the old Hum mums, and be off as he came, per liner, 
when his business is done." 

Poor Mr. Buchanan, sorely pressed, conceived 
the idea of costuming himself like General Wash- 
ington, and to that end examined Stuart's portrait. 
He may even have gone so far as to indulge in a 
private rehearsal — queue ^ powdered wig, and all ; 
but he seems to have perceived he would only 
make himself ridiculous ; so he took his life in his 
hands and — brave gentleman as he was — appeared 
at the queen's levee in the dress of an American 
citizen ; and she, true lady as she was, settled the 
matter, for her court at least, by receiving him as 
she did all others. Mr. Buchanan wrote to his 



Mr. Soule at the Court of Madrid 23 

niece, Miss Harriet Lane, " I wore a sword to 
gratify those who yielded so much, and to distin- 
guish me from the upper court servants." 

Mr. Soule, at the court of Madrid, adopted the 
costume of Benjamin Franklin at the court of 
Louis XVI — sword, chapeau, black velvet, and 
much embroidery, looking, " with his black eyes, 
black looks, and pale complexion, less like the 
philosopher whose costume he imitated than the 
master of Ravenswood." There had been a lively 
discussion among the Austrian and Mexican Minis- 
ters and the Countess of Montijo, the mother of 
the Empress Eugenie and of the Duchess of Alba, 
whether or no he should be rejected; but Mr. 
Soule did not know this. The queen received him, 
he wrote to Mr. Marcy, " with marked attention 
and courtesy." 

There is no telling whether this simple deviation 
from the prescribed court dress was not the real 
cause of Mr. Soule' s serious troubles at court. It 
was the Duke of Alba who provided the spark 
which fired the train of Spanish indignation against 
him and occasioned a quarrel which resulted in two 
duels and strained relations which were never 
reconciled. 

It is always dangerous to infringe upon accepted 
rules of etiquette, even in association with those 
who are themselves defiant of these rules. I dis- 
covered that Mr. Marcy was very jealous of respect 
due to himself, as well as to his government. 

He was a prime favorite, as I have said, with 
the ladies — and with none more than the charming 



24 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

family of " Father Ritchie," as we called one of 
Washington's most esteemed citizens. Mr. Ritchie 
had been editor for forty years of the Richmond 
Enquirer, which he had founded under the auspices 
of Thomas Jefferson, and made one of the most 
influential Democratic papers of the country. His 
home in Washington was noted for elegant hospi- 
tality. He lived next door to Mr. Corcoran on 
Lafayette Square, near St. John's Church. He had 
lovely daughters, and whenever Mr. Marcy appeared 
in the salons of the town, one or more of these 
ladies was sure to be with him. 

It so happened that some of us were much in- 
terested in a poor, worthy young man, who desired 
a position in the State Department. His applica- 
tion had long ago been filed in the office and we 
were afraid he had been forgotten. We longed 
to ask Mr. Marcy about it, but did not know 
how we could manage to bring the subject to his 
notice. 

" Let's make Ann Eliza ask him," suggested 
one. Now, Ann Eliza Ritchie was a beauty, as 
fascinating a young creature as the Lord ever made, 
irresistible alike to man and woman. She hesi- 
tated, — everybody was afraid of Mr. Marcy — but 
goaded on by us, she ventured : — 

"Oh, Mr. Marcy" (Virginia girls always begin 
with " Oh "), " Oh, Mr. Marcy ! They all want to 
know if you are going to appoint Mr. Randolph 
in your department." 

The lion turned. He did not growl, he simply 
roared : " What do you mean, madame ? How 



Jefferson Davis 25 

dare you take the bull by the horns in this un- 
seemly manner ? " 

And so no more of Ann Eliza Ritchie. And so 
no more of the rest of us. We learned a lesson 
we never forgot ; namely, not to meddle in Cabi- 
net affairs, but to content ourselves with the honor 
of amusing great men, — in short, to know our 
place and keep it. 

Mr. Jefferson Davis had been an eminent public 
man long before the presidency of Mr. Pierce. He 
was a graduate of West Point. He had been an 
officer in the Indian wars. He was in the 
House of Representatives at the age of thirty- 
seven. John Quincy Adams heard his maiden 
speech and said : " That young man is no ordi- 
nary man. He will make his mark yet, mind 
me." His devotion to reading and study amounted 
to a passion. He had served as a colonel in the 
Mexican War. It was said of him that " his brill- 
iant movement at Buena Vista carried the day, and 
that his tactical conception was worthy of a Caesar 
or a Napoleon." ' 

He was afterward a member for four years of 
the United States Senate, and although defeated in 
a gubernatorial contest in Mississippi, he rose 
rapidly in the esteem of the people of his own sec- 
tion ; and now, at the age of forty-five, he was the 
" leader of the Southern people, and successor of 
John C. Calhoun." He was leader a few years 
later in the Battle of the Giants, fought so bitterly 
in Mr. Buchanan's time. 

1 J. F. Rhodes's " History of the United States," Vol. I. p. 390. 



26 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Of Mr. Caleb Gushing I knew less than I did 
of Mr. Davis and Mr. Marcy. He had great 
learning, great ability, wide experience in public 
life. He has been described as a " scholar, author, 
lawyer, statesman, diplomatist, general, and judge." 
He was one of the rare class of men who are pre- 
cocious in childhood and youth, and who go intel- 
lectually from strength to strength as long as they 
live. He was graduated from Harvard when only 
seventeen years of age. He was a most attractive 
man in manner and address, and a fascinating public 
speaker. He could quote the " Iliad " from begin- 
ning to end, and could speak to each one of the 
foreign ambassadors in his own tongue. 

Mr. Gushing sent an editorial nearly every day 
to the Washington Union, of which my husband was 
associate editor. No compliment upon his own 
articles which my husband ever received was more 
gratefully appreciated than one from Mr. Cushing. 
A serious difference of opinion had arisen with the 
senior editor, because of a paper upon the Anglo- 
Russian war, in which my husband warmly advo- 
cated the side of Russia. He declined retracting 
his words (which were copied and translated abroad), 
and finally gave up his position on the paper rather 
than express sentiments other than his own. Mr. 
Cushing applauded him, and bade him stand fear- 
lessly by an argument, " unanswered and un- 
answerable." 

Shortly after this Mr. Pierce appointed my hus- 
band special Minister to Greece. I longed to go 
with him to Athens, but my mother's health was 



The President's Charm of Manner 27 

frail, and I felt I could not leave her. So I re- 
turned to my home in Virginia with my children, 
and their father went on his mission alone. When 
it was accomplished, the Pierce administration was 
drawing to a close. 

My temporary home was near Charlottesville, 
and thither, on his way South, came the President 
to spend a day and to visit Monticello, the home 
of the Father of Democracy. He wrote to me, 
inviting me to spend the evening with him and a 
few friends at his hotel. We had a delightful even- 
ing. He told me all I wished to know of the exile 
far away in Greece, expressed warm friendship for 
him and his, and presented me with two gorgeous 
volumes, bound sumptuously in green morocco, 
and inscribed, from my "friend Franklin Pierce," 
in his own fine handwriting. I played at his re- 
quest, he sitting the while beside the piano. I 
selected Henselt's " L'Elisire d'Amour " and " La 
Gondola," to the great delight of the President. The 
other day I read, from the pen of some irreverent 
critic, of the " lilting puerilities of the innocuous 
Henselt." All the same, these puerilities pleased 
the President, and will charm the world until the 
end of time. 

I feel that I have said too little of Mr. Pierce in 
this sketch of the men we knew. I cannot hope to 
convey an adequate conception of his captivating 
voice and manner. Surely its source was in genuine 
kindness of heart. I knew nothing of him as a 
politician. It was urged against him that he was 
extremely partial to the South. I know the South 



28 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

honored and loved him always. It was said that 
" Franklin Pierce could not say ' No ' " — a weakness 
which doubtless caused him a world of trouble in 
his political relations, but to which he may have 
owed something of the indescribable charm for 
which he was conspicuous. Mr. Seward, his politi- 
cal opponent, wrote to his wife : " The President 
has a very winning way in his manners." I can 
fully understand the beautiful friendship between 
him and Nathaniel Hawthorne. How exquisite the 
answer of the author when chidden because he had 
dedicated a book to the President, after the latter 
had become unpopular: "Unpopular, is he? If 
he is so exceedingly unpopular that his name is 
enough to sink the volume, there is so much the 
more need that an old friend should stand by him." 

Hawthorne had then arrived at the height of his 
own popularity, while his friend, on account of his 
fancied Southern sympathies, had lost the friendship 
of his own people. A bitter lot for a sensitive 
patriot, who had done his best ! " An angel can no 
more ! 

My residence in Washington during the Pierce 
administration was too short to afford me more 
than a brief glimpse of the social life of the city, 
but I keenly enjoyed that glimpse. I had the 
good fortune to find favor, as I have said, with 
the old residents, and also with the Hon. W. W. 
Corcoran, at whose house the best of the old and 
new could always be found. 

There I met many distinguished people. I 
remember especially General Winfield Scott, Sam 



General Scott and Sam Houston 29 

Houston, and Washington Irving. General Scott, 
grand, imposing, and ceremonious, never failed to 
tell everybody that he had been groomsman for my 
husband's father — he had been born in Petersburg, 
Virginia. He addressed all young women as " fair 
lady." He was a great hero and a splendid old 
fellow in every particular, and he never for a moment 
forgot his heroism and his splendor. People called 
him " vain." So great a man could not be accused 
of vanity — "the food of fools." He had a reason- 
able pride in what he had achieved, but his was cer- 
tainly not the kind of pride that apes humility. 

As for old Sam Houston, he had had romance 
enough in his past life for a dozen heroes. He had 
lived many years among the Indians, had fought in 
many wars, had achieved the independence of Texas 
— what had he not done? Now he was Senator 
from Texas, very popular, and rather impatient, 
one might judge, of the confinement and restraints 
of his position. It was amusing to see the little 
pages of the Senate Chamber providing him with 
small bundles of soft pine sticks, which he would 
smuggle into his desk with a rather shamefaced 
expression. Doubled up over this desk, his face 
almost covered with his hanging eyebrows and 
iron-gray whiskers, he occupied himself in whit- 
tling sticks as a safety-valve for unrest while listen- 
ing to the long speeches, lasting sometimes until 
midnight. He would prove afterward in his brill- 
iant conversation that he had not lost a word. 
Sometimes the pine under his knife would take 
shape in little crosses, amulets, etc. He was known, 



30 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

now and then, to draw from the pocket of his tiger- 
skin vest an exquisitely carved heart and present it 
to some young lady whose beauty attracted him. 

Then there was Washington Irving, — an old 
man with but a few years to live. He died before 
the end of the administration. One would never 
think him old, — so keen and alert was he, — but 
for his trick of suddenly falling asleep for a minute 
or two in the middle of a conversation. A whisper, 
" Sh-h-h," would pass from one to another, " Mr. 
Irving is asleep;" and in a moment he would 
wake up, rub his hands, and exclaim, " Well, as we 
were saying," taking up the conversation just where 
he had left it. 

My little sister worshipped Mr. Irving. " Only 
let me see him," she pleaded ; " only let me touch 
the hand that wrote the ' Sketch Book.' " 

I repeated this when I introduced her, and he said : 
" Ah, yes, yes ! I know ! I have heard all that 
before — many times before. And just as I am get- 
ting happy over it, here comes a young fellow, 
some whipper-snapper who never wrote a line, and 
[mimicking] it's ' Good evening, Mr. Irving, I am 
glad to have met you.' " 

It happened that my sister had not heard. She was 
already distraite. Her favorite friend had appeared, 
and she at once echoed, " Good evening, Mr. Irving, 
I am glad to have met you," to the old gentle- 
man's infinite delight and amusement. I was proud 
to have had even a word with " America's most cele- 
brated writer : exquisite in courtesy and fidelity and 
of lofty purity of character." He died in 1859 — 



Washington Irving 31 

the heart which had ached so long for the death of 
an early love failing him suddenly at " Sleepy 
Hollow," his home on the Hudson. His country 
scarcely noticed his death ! That country, crazed 
on the subject of slavery, was writing columns on 
columns about John Brown. 

One morning, when I was passing the corner of 
Fifteenth Street, below President Square, my steps 
were arrested by a large crowd which had assembled 
in front of the bank of Corcoran & Riggs. " Dear 
me," I thought, " has the bank failed ? " But the 
green blinds ot the plain two-storied building were 
all open, and presently through the opening door, 
escorted by Mr. Riggs himself, came a slight little 
maid in a Connemara cloak and hood. Mr. Riggs 
put her in a waiting carriage, slammed the door, and, 
with a look which said plainly to the waiting crowd, 
" No more this time," reentered the house. 

The little lady was Adelina Patti — just sixteen 

— and Mr. Riggs's guest during the few days she 
spent in Washington on her way to meet Southern 
engagements. Congressmen tendered her a compli- 
mentary benefit, and she sang in a small hall, sup- 
ported by a few local musicians. She stood before 
us in a simple muslin slip, her dark hair bound with 
a narrow blue velvet ribbon, — a Scottish "snood," 

— and never, in all her brilliant life, was she more 
appreciated, more admired. 

-I could remember a time of musical dearth in 
Virginia, relieved only by rare occasions when the 
dimly lighted concert rooms would be filled by eager 
listeners to wandering minstrels : the Hutchinson 



32 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

family, Anna Bishop, the Orpheans, Parodi, and 
Amalia Patti. After a while Strakosch appeared with 
an infant phenomenon. She looked precisely like a 
French doll, with her little round face, pink cheeks, 
and big black eyes, dressed in short frocks of rose- 
color or blue silk. But she sang like a linnet on 
a bough ; and it was comical to see her in her duets 
inclining her small head toward her contralto, after 
the manner of other divas. This was the ten-year- 
old Adelina Patti ! 

" What does she keep in her throat ? " asked a 
little girl near her own age — adding comfortably, 
" Never mind, we will find out when she dies ! " 

Maurice Strakosch accompanied her on a square 
piano placed upon the floor, the platform being often 
too narrow to admit it. He played, frequently turn- 
ing his face to the audience, nodding and smiling, as 
if to say : — 

" See this little marvel I have discovered ! Is she 
not a darling ? " 

The midget had an uncertain temper in those days. 
Travelling once in the same car with a lady who took 
her fancy, she found an opportunity to free her mind 
of her opinion of her troupe : Amalia was jealous of 
her; Amalia would shake and pinch her behind the 
scenes if the audience applauded her ; Strakosch was 
utterly horrid — just observe his great hands ! Not 
for worlds would she sing for him were it not for the 
sugar-plums ! 

At the end of the journey Strakosch approached 
the little girl and held out his hand to take her to 
her sister. 



Adelina Patti and Mrs. Glasgow 23 

" I am not going with you," said Adelina, " I am 
going home with this lady." 

" Ah, but impossible ! " said Strakosch. 

" I will ! " said the small rebel. " You know I 
always do things when I say ( I will.' ' 

" Why not ? " said the lady (she was Mrs. Glas- 
gow, the lovely mother of Ellen Glasgow, the au- 
thoress). " Why not ? Let her come with me ! I 
will take good care of her." 

Strakosch shrugged his shoulders. A scene was 
imminent. " If I consent, Adelina," he said at last, 
" will you be sure to be ready when I come for you 
for rehearsal ? Will you be sure to sing? " 

" Will you be sure to bring me back ? " 

" Sure — I promise." 

"How much candy?" was the next excited 
question. 

" A whole pound." 

" No — not enough ! " 

" Two pounds," said Strakosch, glancing around 
to satisfy himself that the scene attracted admirers 
and possible concert goers. 

" Not enough," persisted Adelina, shaking her 
head. 

" A hatful ! " cried Strakosch, and won the day. 

Mrs. Glasgow devoted herself to the little girl 
for the four days of her stay. On the last evening 
she invited ten or fifteen child neighbors to a dolls' 
party with Adelina Patti. At the end of the evening 
she said : " Now, Adelina, these little girls have been 
very kind to you. They have brought you lovely 
flowers — I wish you to sing one little song for them." 



34 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

A shrewd look possessed the tiny face. "Sing — 
for — them ! Sing without money ! Mais non ! J'ai 
toujours beaucoup des fleurs." 

She disappeared for a while from public view. I saw 
her no more until her visit to Washington. Later, 
if I may anticipate, during Mr. Buchanan's admin- 
istration, she made her debut in " Lucia di Lammer- 
moor." People fought for seats and boxes. Three 
rival beauties secured the three best — tiny, comfort- 
less stalls — at ninety dollars each. It was some- 
thing to see Miss Harriet Lane, Mrs. John R. 
Thompson, and Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas in those 
three boxes ! Each was filled with beautiful women, 
and the Cabinet officers and Senators stood behind. 

" What is all this about ? " asked Judge Douglas, 
the " Little Giant." 

"The opera follows Scott's * Bride of Lammer- 
moor,' " I gently suggested. 

" Whose bride was she ? Where did she live ? " 
asked the mighty man, the famous Senator who came 
so near being President. 

" I doubt whether she lived at all," I- told him. 
"She is a creature of pure imagination, I'm afraid." 

" Oh ! " said the Senator, contemptuously, and 
gave no more attention to the stage nor to the divine 
artist upon it. 

As I had come to Washington from Virginia, 
where everybody's great-grandfather knew my great- 
grandfather, where the rules of etiquette were only 
those of courtesy and good breeding, I had many a 
troubled moment in my early Washington life, lest 
I should transgress some law of precedence, etc. I 



An Old Resident's Advice to a Young Chaperon 35 

wisely took counsel with one of my " old residents," 
and she gave me a few simple rules whereby the 
young chaperon of a very young girl might be 
guided : " My dear," said this lady, " My dear, you 
know you cannot always have your husband to 
attend you. It will be altogether proper for you 
to go with your sister to morning and afternoon 
receptions. When you arrive, send for the host or 
the master of ceremonies, and he will take you in 
and present you. Of course, your husband will 
take you to balls ; if he is busy, you simply can- 
not go ! I think you would do well to make a rule 
never, under any circumstances, to drive in men's 
carriages. There are so many foreigners here, you 
must be careful. They never bring their own court 
manners to Washington. They take their cue from 
the people they meet. If you are high and haughty, 
they will be high and haughty. If you are genially 
civil but reserved, they will be so. If you talk 
personalities in a free and easy way, they will spring 
some audacious piece of scandal on you, and the 
Lord only knows where they'll end." 

Now, it so happened that I had just received a 
request from a Frenchman who had brought letters, 
to be allowed to escort Madame and Mademoiselle to 
a fete in Georgetown. We were to drive through 
the avenue of blossoming crab-apples, and rendez- 
vous at a spring for a picnic. I forget the name of 
our hostess, but she had arranged a gay festival, 
including music and dancing on the green. I had 
accepted this invitation and the escort of M. Raoul, 
and received a note from him asking at what hour 



36 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

he should have the honor, etc., and I immediately 
ran home and wrote that" Madame would be happy 
to see M. Raoul a trois heures" — and that Madame 
asked the privilege of using her own horses, etc. I 
made haste to engage an open carriage and congratu- 
lated myself on my clever management. 

The afternoon was delicious. Monsieur appeared 
on the moment, and we waited for my carriage. 
The gay equipages of other members of the party 
drove up and waited for us. Presently, rattling 
down the street, came an old ramshackle " night- 
hawk," bearing the mud-and-dust scars of many 
journeys, the seats ragged and tarnished, raw-boned 
horses, with rat-eaten manes and tails, harness tied 
with rope, — the only redeeming feature the old 
negro on the box, who, despite his humiliating 
entourage, had the air of a gentleman. 

What could I do ? There was nothing to be 
done ! 

Monsieur handed me in without moving a muscle 
of his face, handed in my sister, entered himself, and 
spoke no word during the drive. He conducted us 
gravely to the place of rendezvous, silently and 
gravely walked around the grounds with us, silently 
and gravely brought us home again. 

I grew hot and cold by turns, and almost shed 
tears of mortification. I made no apology — what 
could I say ? Arriving at my own door, I turned 
and invited my escort to enter. He raised his hat 
and, with an air of the deepest dejection, dashed with 
something very like sarcastic humility, said he 
trusted Madame had enjoyed the afternoon — 



Experience with the Washington Livery Service 37 

thanked her for the honor done himself — and 
only regretted the disappointment of the French 
Minister, the Count de Sartiges, at not having been 
allowed to serve Madame with his own state coach, 
which had been placed at his disposal for Madame's 



re 



pleasu 

As he turned away my chagrin was such I came 
near forgetting to give my coachman his little 
" tip. 

I began, " Oh, Uncle, how could you ? " when he 
interrupted: "Now, Mistis, don't you say nothin'. 
I knowed dis ole fune'al hack warn't fittin' for you, 
but der warn't nar another kerridge in de stable. 
De boss say, ' Go 'long, Jerry, an' git 'er dar ! ' — 
an' I done done it! An' I done fotch 'er back, 
too ! " 

I never saw M. Raoul afterward. There's no 
use crying over spilt milk, or broken eggs, or 
French monsieurs, or even French counts and 
Ministers. I soon left for Virginia, and to be 
relieved of the dread of meeting M. Raoul softened 
my regret at leaving Washington. 



CHAPTER III 

ADMINISTRATION OF PRESIDENT BUCHANAN 

TWO days after Mr. Buchanan's inauguration, 
the nominations for the Cabinet were sent 
to the Senate. The venerable Lewis Cass, 
with many years of honorable service behind him, 
was Secretary of State, — selected, the "Old-Line 
Whigs" said, because the President meant really to 
be Secretary of State himself, and he wished an ami- 
able first assistant. Moreover, he liked to say "old 
Lewis Cass," as though he were himself so much 
younger. Hon. Howell Cobb of Georgia had the 
Treasury Department. He was a man of political 
ability, " frank and genial," sagacious and conserva- 
tive, " qualities fitting him well to dominate his 
associates." Mr. Floyd, who " belonged to the first 
families of Virginia," was the Secretary of War. Mr. 
Toucey of Connecticut was Secretary of the Navy, 
Mr. Jacob Thompson of Mississippi, Secretary of 
the Interior, Mr. Brown of Tennessee, Postmaster- 
General, and Judge Jeremiah Black, Attorney- 
General, — three from the North, four from the 
South. The new Cabinet, people said, was far 
inferior in capacity to the retiring one. 

The new President was a bachelor. Despite his 
vears and his cold, reserved manner, his fidelity to 

38 



A New President and a Gay Capital 39 

the memory of beautiful Miss Coleman, to whom he 
had been affianced in his youth, invested him with 
the interest which attaches to romance. This was 
enhanced by his devotion to his niece, Miss Harriet 
Lane. In her affection he found the only solace of 
his lonely life. For her sake he condescended to 
unbend in public ; and to brighten the atmosphere 
around her, he sometimes became quite a jaunty old 
bachelor. She was his confidante in all matters 
political and personal. A stately etiquette ruled 
between the two. She was always addressed as 
"Miss Harriet," and to her he was "The Presi- 
dent " — never " Uncle Buchanan," except on the rare 
occasions when she considered it worth her while to 
coax him in order to carry a point. 

Washington was never gayer than during this 
administration, more memorable than any other 
except Washington's and Lincoln's. The mighty 
giants of the House and Senate were there, the men 
who must be held largely responsible for that most 
unnecessary, cruel, and wicked war — the war be- 
tween the Northern and Southern states of America. 
Washington was the storm centre, charged with the 
electric forces so soon to burst in fury upon the 
country. 

But before we enter upon these troubled times, 
we will live over again some of the happy, care- 
forgetting months of our life in Washington. 

My husband who had succeeded Mr. Ritchie as 
one of the editors of the Richmond Enquirer was now 
a member of Congress. He had accomplished his 
mission to Greece to the satisfaction of his govern- 



4<d Reminiscences of Peace and War 

ment and to his own pleasure and profit. With a 
good courier and a generous country at his back, he 
had traversed Europe, had seen Venice rise from 
the sea, had revelled in the grandeur that was — and 
is — Rome, had beheld the mosques and minarets of 
the Byzantine city from the waters of the Golden 
Horn, had looked into the inscrutable eyes of the 
Sphinx, and had finally taken up his abode under 
the shadow of the Acropolis. There he had met the 
" Maid of Athens," now stout, middle-aged Mrs. 
Black, so the poor American Minister, who was 
young and romantic, — in order to understand the 
passionate entreaty of Byron to return the wandering 
heart of him or else take the rest of him, — was con- 
strained to think of the poem, and look the while at 
a dark-eyed Greek beauty named " Elpis " — at least 
this was the explanation made to me of his frequent 
allusions in his letters to the latter. There, too, he 
had charmed Oueen Mathilde with a description of 
the night-blooming cereus of this country and had 
stricken the court of King Otho dumb with amaze- 
ment by outrageous American boasting. 

" Kindly tell us, your Excellency," inquired the 
king at a state banquet, " what subject most inter- 
ests your country at the present moment." 

" The problem, may it please your Majesty, of 
how we shall govern our superfluous territory and 
invest our superfluous treasure." 

This may not have pleased his Majesty, but it 
certainly astounded him. Little Greece was, at the 
moment, hemmed in by organized bands of brigands 
and sorely pressed for the means of existence. 



Incidents attending Special Mission to Greece 41 

Our envoy had the honor, too, of attending, with 
Madame le Vert, the ball at the Hotel de Ville, and of 
witnessing the opening quadrille, danced by Victoria 
and Albert, Louis Napoleon and his sister Ma- 
thilde, the empress being ill. Both queen and 
princess seemed young and happy, both attired in 
white satin flounced with point lace, and wearing a 
prince's ransom in jewels. 

The weather was fearfully hot, and the royal 
party danced but once. The queen did not step a 
stately measure, dancing " high and disposedly " ; 
— but she entered into the spirit of the hour 
heartily, and, although the mother of eight chil- 
dren, danced with the glee of a young girl, growing 
withal very red in the face like any ordinary mortal. 

At one of the gala days of the Exposition in 
Paris, a very large woman attracted much atten- 
tion. She was neither young nor handsome, but 
had a comfortable, well-to-do air of content. A 
profusion of light curls clustered around her rotund 
face. These ringlets were all that was left of the 
beauty of the Countess Guiccioli ! Alas, there was 
no " Elpis " at hand for consolation. All these 
things and more would have appeared in a charming 
volume but for the secession of South Carolina, as 
will be seen later on in my story. 

I never regretted the loss of this beautiful oppor- 
tunity in my life. My mother had been nursed back 
to bless me and mine a few years longer. Moreover, 
I found myself enriched. I had pictures, ravishing 
pictures, Raphael's " Belle Jardiniere," a priceless 
Raffaello Morghen's proof impression of the " Ma- 



4.1 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

donna della Seggiola," Guido's "Aurora" with its 
glorious women — the most glorious being (if she 
would only turn around) the one with her back 
to the world. I had many others, Titian, Domeni- 
chino, Murillo, Leonardo da Vinci. I had amber 
from Constantinople, curios and antiques from 
Egypt, corals and cameos from Naples and Flor- 
ence, silks from Broussa (afterward swallowed up 
by an earthquake), silks and velvets from Lyons, 
laces from Brussels, perfumes from the land of 
Araby the blest, — things mightily consoling to a 
woman in her early twenties. 

We found a large house on New York Avenue 
and filled it with good Virginia servants. Admon- 
ished by experience, we secured horses and a care- 
ful coachman. 

We had come to stay ! My husband represented 
the old district of his kinsman, John Randolph of 
Roanoke, and his constituents were devoted to him. 
They would never supplant him with another. Of 
that we might be sure. God granting life and 
health, we were going to be happy young people. 

The market in Washington was abundantly 
supplied with the finest game and fish from the 
Eastern Shore of Maryland and Virginia, and the 
waters of the Potomac. Brant, ruddv duck, can- 
vasback duck, sora, oysters, and terrapin were 
within the reach of any housekeeper. Oysters, 
to be opened at a moment's notice, were planted 
on the cellar floors, and fed with salt water, and the 
cellars, as far as the mistress was concerned, were 
protected from invasion by the large terrapins kept 



Early Housekeeping in Washington 43 

there — a most efficient police force, crawling about 
with their outstretched necks and wicked eyes. 

Such dainties demanded expert cooking. We 
found in our house a portly family servant, " Aunt 
Susan," who had been left as caretaker with permis- 
sion to remain or not as the new tenant should 
please, or as she herself should please. I fell in 
love with her on sight and found her willing to 
engage with me. 

" Can you cook, Aunt Susan ? " I imprudently 
inquired. 

" No'm, I don't call myself a cook, but I know a 
hogfish from a yellow-bellied perch, and a canvas- 
back duck from a redhead. I could cook oysters 
to suit my own white folks." 

We had brought with us a number of servants 
who had lived with us in Virginia. They were free. 
We never owned slaves ; this one free family had 
served us always. 

A serious difficulty immediately arose in the 
kitchen. Susan felt her dignity insulted. She 
had supposed I would bring " gentlefolks' servants 
from the Eastern Sho'." She had not " counted on 
free niggers to put on airs an' boss her in her own 
kitchen." 

My Virginia servants protested absolute humility 
and innocence. But that was not all. A French 
woman, Adele Riviere, was sewing in the nursery, 
and an Englishman, George Boyd, was coachman. 
Susan wanted " only one mistress," she had " not 
counted on working for furriners. By the time she 
had pleased that Frenchwoman and Englishman and 



44 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

them free niggers " she " wouldn't have enough 
sperrit left to wipe her foot on the door-mat." 

A compromise was effected, however. Susan 
was to be queen on her own premises ; and if she 
must occasionally " put on airs " herself and " boss " 
somebody, why she might always " boss " me. 

" I think," said my friend Agnes, " you have very 
neatly arranged to have as much trouble as possible. 
The question of caste will crop up every hour of the 
day. If the worst comes to the worst, let them all 
go except Susan ! Harriet Martineau gives fine 
advice, for an old maid : * Never nag your servants 
— but if occasion demands, come down upon them 
like the day of judgment.' " 

" I stand by Susan," I assured her, " whatever she 
does. I am dreadfully opposed to capital punish- 
ment, but if anybody kills a cook, he needn't bring 
his case to our office." 

Susan had offended, by her assumption of superi- 
ority, all the members of my household except my- 
self, to whom she was most kind and respectful. 
The boy James had been brought by his aunts, who 
promised to train him for my service. He soon 
developed an ingenuity in teasing the cook amount- 
ing to inspiration. Matters between them reached 
a crisis one morning. I was reading my paper in 
the office adjoining the breakfast-room when I heard 
Susan's raucous voice : " What do you mean com- 
ing in this kitchen hollerin' out ( Susan, Susan ' ? 
Whar's your manners ? " 

"I loant 'em to de cook dis mornin', Susan — 
leastways Miss Moss ! I always disremembers yo' 
entitlements." 



A Question of Caste 45 

"Well, you just get out of this kitchen ! I can 
send breakfast up on the dumb waiter. You stay 
in your own place." 

" I kin make myse'f skase, Miss Moss, but dat 
ain't de pint. Cose de dumb waiter can't talk, an' I 
has to speak about clean plates an' — " 

" Get out o' here, I tell you. Clean, indeed ! And 
your face not washed this morning ! An' you all 
pizened up with scent like — " 

" Lawd y Miss Moss! Dont say what I'se like! 
An' what I gwine fling water in my face for ? I ain' 
no house afire." 

In a few minutes Susan, her ample figure endowed 
with a fresh white apron, and her bandanna turban 
tied to a nicety, presented herself, dropped a courtesy, 
and said with perfect politeness : — 

" Honey, I hate to worry you, but I'm afraid the 
time has come when you must choose between me 
and the free nigger. I think too much of myself 
to mind his impudence, but everything smells and 
tastes of his strong scents — which I know will never 
suit you nor the master. I, for one, can't stand 
em. 

" Then James must leave at once," said I, firmly. 
" He knows the perfume is forbidden, and I have 
myself heard his disrespectful language to you." 

But James had no idea of leaving Washington 
and returning to the position of knife-cleaner in the 
Petersburg hotel, whence I had taken him. He 
experienced a total change of heart. He surrendered 
in magnificent style. I was too skilful a general not 
to press my advantage. Then and there I confis- 



46 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

cated his entire stock of spurious attar of rose. It 
could not be buried, because the court was paved ; 
it could not be emptied in the waste-water pipes, lest 
we remember it forever ; but I opened the doors of 
Susan's kitchen range, and laid it, a burnt-offering 
to her offended dignity, upon the glowing coals. 
I then went calmly in to my coffee, which had a 
distinctly Oriental flavor that morning. 

Things went smoothly after this. The prevailing 
spirit of secession found its way only as far as the 
nursery, when pretty Adele Riviere entered a con- 
vent (with but one expressed regret, that the bonnets 
were so unbecoming), and a dear little genius, Annie 
Powers, took her place, — coming regularly for fifty 
cents a day, and making me independent of the elu- 
sive dressmakers who lorded and queened it over 
my unhappy friends. 

And just here I feel constrained to apologize to 
my friend who has, at this moment, this page before 
him, for recording so many trifling incidents; but in 
painting a faithful picture of any time, the little lights 
and shadows cannot be left out. Nothing is unim- 
portant. Even 

" To the God that maketh all 

There is no great — there is no small," 

words which I quote with no fear of being deemed 
irreverent ; since the couplet has been discovered by 
a sojourner in the Orient to have been a petty larceny 
of Emerson's from the book of a Brahmin, and is not 
a quotation from the pen of inspiration, as we un- 
derstand inspiration. 



CHAPTER IV 

SOCIAL LIFE DURING BUCHANAN'S ADMINISTRATION 

WE attended Dr. Gurley's church and found 
that the President also had taken a seat 
in that church. Our own was near the 
door, and for many Sundays before I knew him, 
I was interested in seeing him enter the church and 
walk briskly up to his pew near the pulpit (while 
the bell was ringing), buttoned in his broadcloth 
coat, wearing no overcoat in the coldest weather. 
Immediately after the benediction he would walk 
rapidly down the aisle, the congregation standing 
until he passed. Miss Lane attended St. John's 
Church, and the President was accompanied only by 
his secretary, Mr. Buchanan Henry. After I knew 
him quite well, I always spoke to him when he 
passed me near the door, and I sometimes ventured, 
" A good sermon, Mr. President ! " he never fail- 
ing to reply, " Too long, Madam, too long." 

I was leading a very happy domestic life, busy 
with my little boys and my housekeeping, proud of 
my self-constituted office as my Congressman's pri- 
vate secretary, much exercised in sending documents, 
seeds, and cuttings (we were introducing tea-culture 
in Virginia) to his constituents, when I was called to 

47 



48 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

order by our dear old friend, Mr. Dudley Mann, 
an old politician, diplomat, and " society man." 

" Madam, did you come to Washington to live 
in your own house and write letters to farmers ? " 

" What better could I do ? " 

" The President does not agree with you. He 
admires your husband and wonders why you were 
not at the Levee. He has asked me to see that you 
come to the next one." 

" I shall be on a committee that night," said my 
Congressman, hastily, — he was usually on a com- 
mittee when a reception was to the fore. 

" I will take her myself," said Mr. Mann. " Now, 
wear a pretty evening dress of silk or velvet. Can 
it be lavender? And I will call precisely at nine." 

I appreciated the honor of Mr. Mann's escort, 
and, wishing to please him, procured the lavender 
silk. Our evening gowns were cut straight across 
the neck, and finished with a bertha of lace. The 
full skirt was distended over a large hoop. An 
elaborate headdress of flowers or marabout feathers 
was de rigueur for a levee, which, however, demanded 
simpler attire than a ball or a dinner. Our white 
gloves were short and were finished at the wrist with 
a fall of lace three or four inches wide, and a band of 
ribbon and rosette. 

Mr. Mann approved my attire and gave me a 
very good time. The crowd was great and the 
amplitude and length of the ladies' robes filled me 
with anxiety. 

" Dear Mr. Mann," I said, " pray be careful not to 
tread on the trains." 



Levee at the White House 49 

" My child," he answered, " I haven't lifted my 
feet for twenty years ! " 

The President detained us for a few courteous 
words, and we were passed on to Miss Lane, stand- 
ing, not beside him, but in a group with other ladies. 
Thence we found our way to the East Room, and a 
great many ladies and gentlemen were introduced 
to me, as I stood on the arm of my courtly escort. 

Such a number of cards came to us after this that 
the housekeeping, the writing, the little boys, the 
seeds, and the tea-culture in Virginia were likely to 
suffer. 

The reign of the "afternoon tea" was not yet — 
at le.ast not in Washington ; but entertainments 
included morning receptions, evening receptions, 
dinners, musicales, children's parties, old-fashioned 
evening parties with music and supper, and splendid 
balls. So many of these were crowded into a season 
that we often attended three balls in one evening. 

The first time I dined with the President I made 
early and elaborate preparation. When the great 
day arrived, all my paraphernalia, rosetted slippers, 
gloves, fan, dress, and wrap were duly laid out on 
my bed and sofa. In the evening I seated myself 
at a dressing table and submitted my head to Fran- 
cois' hands. The evening coiffure was elaborate and 
troublesome. The hair in front was stiffened with 
bandoline, and formed into sleek, smooth bandeaux, 
framing the face. Behind, all the hair was tightly 
tied, low at the nape of the neck, then divided into 
two parts, and each woven with many strands into 
a wide braid. These were curved from ear to ear 



5<d Reminiscences of Peace and War 

to form a basket, and within the basket were roses, 
or pond-lilies, or violets, with long trailing vines 
floating behind. 

Francois was a very agreeable talker. He had 
dressed Rachel's hair and was leisurely giving a 
charming lecture on Rachel's art. Suddenly my 
husband burst in : " The carriage is at the door ! 
Hurry, hurry ! We've only ten minutes to reach 
the White House." 

I literally leaped into my gown, had no time for 
flowers or jewels, snatched up my gloves, left every- 
thing else, and ran ! We entered the green room 
just as .Mr. Buchanan Henry was arranging the 
guests for dinner. Luckily I was low down on his 
list. 

I was miserably heated, and very uncomfortable 
lest I should not be able to conceal my Congress 
gaiters, having had no time to change them. My 
gloves were on, but not buttoned. To add to my 
misfortunes I found I was to be taken in by a 
Southern Congressman who was already — well, not 
exactly himself. To my horror he winked at Miss 
Lane when he drank wine with her. When a side 
dish was handed, he said audibly : " Now look here, 
Joe ! Is that the same old thing you gave me here 
last year? Because if it is, I don't want any of it." 
After we returned to the parlor I confided my mis- 
eries to the lady who had been placed next him at 
dinner, and she reassured me : " Oh, that's nothing ! 
Such things happen here any day — nobody notices 
these people from the rural districts." 

This was worse than the ramshackle carriage. 



State Dinners at the White House 51 

Could I bear to be classed with " people from the 
rural districts ? " I was never a moment late after- 
ward. 

Dinners at the White House were much less elab- 
orate in their appointments than were dinners at the 
homes of the wealthy Cabinet officers and Senators. 
Mr. Buchanan set an example of Republican sim- 
plicity. Few flowers were placed in the drawing 
rooms. In the centre of the Blue Room there was 
a divan surrounding a stand of potted plants and 
surmounted by a small palm. The dinner table 
was not ornamented with flowers, nor were bouquets 
at the covers. A long plateau, a mirror edged 
with a hunting scene (gilt figures in high relief), ex- 
tended down the middle, and from the centre and at 
the two ends rose epergnes with small crystal dishes 
for bonbons and cakes. 

One evening the President said to me, " Madam, 
what is this small shrub I find always placed before 
me r 

" If the berries were white, Mr. President, it would 
be Ardisia alba" 

" Ah," he answered, " I am all right ! My berries 
are red — I have' Ardisia rufa ! ' Miss Harriet 
has the alba ! " 

There were no other floral decorations on the 
table. 

I once ventured to send the President a Virginia 
ham, with particular directions for cooking it. It 
was to be soaked, boiled gently three or four hours, 
suffered to get cold in its own juices, and then toasted. 

This would seem simple enough, but the execu- 



52 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

tive cook disdained it, perhaps for the reason that it 
was so simple. The dish, a shapeless, jeilylike mass, 
was placed before the President. He took his knife 
and fork in hand to honor the dish by carving it 
himself, looked at it helplessly, and called out — 
" Take it away ! Take it away ! Oh, Miss Harriet ! 
You are a poor housekeeper ! Not even a Virginia 
lady can teach you." 

The glass dishes of the epergne contained wonder- 
ful "French kisses" — two-inch squares of crystal- 
lized sugar wrapped in silver paper, and elaborately 
decorated with lace and artificial flowers. I was 
very proud at one dinner when the President said 
to me, " Madam, I am sending you a souvenir for 
your little daughter," and a waiter handed me one 
of those gorgeous affairs. He had questioned me 
about my boys, and I had told him of my daughter 
Gordon, eight years old, who lived with her grand- 
mother. " You must bring her to see Miss Harriet," 
he had said — which, in due season, I did ; an event, 
with its crowning glory of a checked silk dress, white 
hat and feather, which she proudly remembers to 
this day. Having been duly presented at court, 
the little lady was much " in society " and accom- 
panied me to many brilliant afternoon functions. 

She was a thoughtful listener to the talk in her 
father's library, and once when an old politician 
spoke sadly of a possible rupture of the United 
States, surprised and delighted him by slipping her 
hand in his and saying, " never mind ! United will 
spell Untied just as well" — a little mot which was 
remembered and repeated long afterwards. 



Miss Harriet Lane 



53 



Mr. Buchanan's kind notice of her is gratefully 
recollected. It was said that he was influenced by 
the Southern Senators and Representatives. I only 
know he v/as most kind to us, and I refuse to be- 
lieve we were of consequence enough to make this 
kindness a matter of policy. I would fain think he 
really liked us, really desired to add to our happiness. 

It cannot be said that his niece, Miss Harriet 
Lane, although universally admired, was a popular 
woman. She lacked magnetism. She followed a 
prescribed rule of manner from which she never 
deviated, no matter with whom she was thrown. 
This was, perhaps, fortunate. Always courteous, 
always in place, silent whenever it was possible to 
be silent, watchful, and careful, she made no enemies, 
was betrayed into no entangling alliances, and was in- 
volved in no contretemps of any kind. 

She was very handsome, a fair, blue-eyed, self- 
contained young woman. She was dignified — as 
indeed all women had to be, in gesture at least, 
when they wore great hoops ! The " curtsy " was a 
perilous dutv. " How does she do it? She never 
makes a cheese of herself," said one, looking on at 
a morning reception. Miss Lane's courtesy was the 
perfection of deference and grace. And she had 
exquisite taste in dress. She never wore many orna- 
ments, many flowers, nor the billows of ruffles then in 
fashion. I remember her in white tulle, with a 
wreath of clematis; in soft brown or blue silk; in 
much white muslin, dotted and plain, with blue 
ribbons run in puffs on skirt and bodice. 

She was very affable and agreeable, in an unemo- 



54 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

tional way — the proper manner, of course, for her. 
I imagine no one could take a liberty with her then, 
but I risked the experiment some years ago when 
we spent a summer together at Bar Harbor. A 
handsome widow, with silver hair, she was even 
more distingue than she had been in the White 
House. I recalled, to her genuine amusement, two 
incidents of her life there. When she took her 
place as mistress of the Executive Mansion, the 
President had given her but one rule for her con- 
duct : never under any circumstances to accept a 
present. " Think of my feelings," she had said to 
me, " when the lovely lacquered boxes and tables 
the Japanese Embassy brought me were turned from 
the door, to say nothing of the music-boxes and 
these fascinating sewing-machines they have just 
invented." 

A party was once made up for a visit to Mount 
Vernon. Mr. Augustus Schell of New York accom- 
panied Miss Lane. He was a fine-looking fellow and 
very much in love with her. As they walked along 
the banks of the Potomac, she picked up a handful 
of colored pebbles. Mr. Schell requested them of 
her and put them in his pocket. He took them to 
Tiffany, had them beautifully polished, set with 
diamonds, and linked together in a bracelet, and 
sent them as " a souvenir of Mount Vernon " to Miss 
Lane for a Christmas gift. 

She carried them for a week in her pocket, trying to 
get her own consent to give them up. The more she 
looked at them the better she liked them. One day 
the President was in fine spirits. He liked to rally 



Miss Harriet Lane $$ 

her about Lord Lyons, which she did not fancy 
overmuch. But this time she humored him, and at 
last ventured to say, " Uncle Buchanan, if I have 
a few pretty pebbles given me, you do not object to 
my accepting them ? " 

" Oh, no, Miss Harriet ! Keep your pebbles ! 
Keep your pebbles," he exclaimed, in high good 
humor. 

"You know," Miss Lane said, in telling me the 
story at the time, " diamonds are pebbles." 

There was an impression that she never conde- 
scended to the role of a coquette, but I could testify 
to the contrary. 

Mr. Porcher Miles, Congressman from South 
Carolina, was one of her train of devoted admirers. 
He accompanied me once to an evening reception 
at the White House. Miss Lane stood in front of 
the flower-trimmed divan in the Blue Room. Mr. 
Miles and I paid our respects, lingered awhile, and, 
having other engagements, sent for our carriage. 

As we stood at the door waiting, he talked of 
Miss Lane's beauty and charm — "Look at her 
where she stands ! Is she not the personification of 
a high-bred lady from head to foot ? " 

Miss Lane perceived we were talking about her, 
— and while she gave her right hand to the arriving 
guests she passed her left behind her and plucked a 
spray of mignonette. We saw her beckon a servant, 
who immediately found us, and gave the flowers to 
Mr. Miles, " with Miss Lane's compliments." 

I repeated these two little stories to her when her 
head was silvered, — less by age than by sorrow, — 



$6 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

and awoke one of those rare moonlight smiles which 
her friends remember so well. 

No one who observed Mr. Buchanan could fail 
to perceive the rapid change in him after he became 
President. Having committed himself to the policy 
of rotation in office, he was overwhelmed with the 
persistence of place hunters. " They give me no 
time to sav my prayers," he complained. They 
exhausted him in listening to their petty interests 
at a time when the most important problems that 
ever confronted the head of the nation clamored for 
his consideration. 

Toward the last, when the older men almost gave 
up hope, his only prayer was that the catastrophe of 
conflict might not come in his day. He cannot be 
blamed above others for hesitation, vacillation. The 
problems were too mighty for one man's wisdom, 
too mighty for the collective wisdom of many. 

Lord and Lady Napier were interesting members 
of Washington society. They occupied the house 
built by Admiral Porter on H Street, near Fourteenth, 
now the residence of the French Embassy. They 
had succeeded Mr. Crampton, and were themselves 
succeeded in 1859 by Lord Lyons — so we had 
three British Ministers within a few years. Lord 
and Lady Napier gave delightful entertainments — 
dinners, musicales, receptions, evening parties. My 
Lady was more admired than were any of her prede- 
cessors. She was lovely in person, gentle, cultivated, 
most affable and approachable. At her receptions, 
and even at her balls, her sons, charming boys of ten 
and twelve, were always present to help her receive 











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LADY NAPIER AND HER SONS. 
From a photograph by Brady, 1858. 



Ball in Honor of Lord and Lady Napier 57 

her guests. Everything she did, everything she said, 
seemed wisest, virtuosest, discreetest, best. We 
have had no representative from the court of St. 
James who did so much for the entertainment of 
our own people as Lord and Lady Napier. 

They gave a splendid ball in 1858 in honor of 
the queen's birthday. Lady Napier was superb in 
a tiara of diamonds and emeralds. Lord Napier 
and all the foreign Ministers shone forth in all the 
splendor of court dress ; and everybody must con- 
cede — Mr. Marcy to the contrary notwithstanding 
— that the glitter of gold lace and gems, the dis- 
tinction of orders, the imperial stars and decorations, 
do add to the interest of such an occasion. They 
mean much. They mean honor achieved, services 
recognized. 

A recording Jenkins of this ball dilates upon the 
elegance of the supper, " this vista of gold and silver 
plate and the more than epicurean daintiness of the 
delicacies, the age and vintage of the wines." 

The most interesting ball of the season was that 
given by the Senators and Representatives to Lord 
and Lady Napier just before they returned to 
England. 

We were early arrivals at this ball, because we 
wished to see the sanded floor of the ball room, 
representing in colors St. George and the Dragon, 
before it should be effaced by the dancers. 

Lord and Lady Napier were seated on a dais at 
the head of the room, and we passed in review 
before them. Lady Napier was attired in rich 
white satin, embroidered with pearls, with a close 



58 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" Juliet cap " of pearls on her hair. No lofty throne 
could make her less gracious than was her wont. 

Dion Boucicault gave me his arm at the door, and 
after our obeisance walked around the room to show 
me the portraits and paintings. On the right of 
Lord and Lady Napier was a full-length portrait of 
young Victoria in her ermine robe and crown, and 
on the left, one of Washington. " Alas, alas," said 
Mr. Boucicault, " that so great a man should have 
been painted with cramp in his fingers ! " My escort 
was altogether charming. I discovered he was " put- 
ting in time " with me, for presently here came little 
Agnes Robertson, just from the theatre, where she 
had been playing in the " Siege of Lucknow," and I 
lost Mr. Boucicault ! He married her soon after- 
ward. And afterward ! Ah, well ! That is none 
of the business of this story. 

When we entered the banquet hall, Lady Napier's 
exclamations were enthusiastic. " Look, George," 
she cried, " there is the knight and his dragon again 
— all in sugar! And here are the English arms 
and — oh, George ! here are our own arms ! " Gau- 
tier had excelled himself. There were glittering 
haystacks of spun sugar ; wonderful Roman char- 
iots, drawn by swans, and driven by Cupids ; pyra- 
mids of costly bonbons ; dolphins in a sea of rock 
candy ; and ices in every form from a pair of turtle 
doves to a pillared temple. Gautier spread all his 
tables in this fashion, the grosser dishes of game, 
terrapin, and canvasback being served from a buffet. 

Washington suppers in the fifties were superb. 
One wondered if we might not some day return 



Roman Feasts and Washington Suppers 59 

to the feasts of the Roman emperors, the tables of 
cedar and ivory incrusted with jewels, the movable 
ceilings representing the celestial spheres, the 
showers of violets and roses which rained down on 
the guests in the intervals between the courses of 
peacocks' brains and nightingales' tongues, the 
trumpets which greeted the appearance of the stuffed 
peacocks with spread plumage. Time has really 
changed our supper fashions less than we imagine. 
Music, delicate wines, confectionery in fanciful forms, 
silver dishes, flowers, perfumed water for the fingers, 
were all fashionable in the fourteenth century. We 
smile to read of the flocks of living birds and the 
stuffed fowls that adorned the boards of the Neapol- 
itan kings. But it has not been many years since, 
at a banquet given in New York to Ex-President 
Cleveland by the Manhattan Club, a tank was 
placed in the middle of the table where living terra- 
pins crawled about and were thoughtful spectators 
of the fate of the terrapine a la Maryland. And at 
intervals around the board, stuffed pheasants con- 
templated the flight of the faisan roti down Demo- 
cratic throats. Benedetti Salutati in 1476 never did 
better than this. And, compared with these ancients 
and moderns, M. Gautier was extremely refined, 
and only a bit anachronistic with his Roman chariots, 
Cupids, and swans. 

People were wont to remark upon the atmosphere 
the lovely Lady Napier seemed to bring with her 
everywhere. Those who were admitted into her 
sanctum sanctorum, her little boudoir, fancied they 
could explain it. Upon her table was much silver 



60 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

marked with her coronet and initials, and beside 
these was a rosewood book rack containing half a 
dozen volumes — a Bible, a " Treatise on Practical 
Religion," " The Mount of Olivet," " Paradise of 
the Christian Soul," " The Christian Year," " Child's 
Catechism," " Life of Dean Ramsey." These were 
the pure waters from which Lady Napier drank daily. 
" Ninia Napier" was written in a delicate Italian 
hand on the fly-leaf of each volume. 

My acquaintance with Lord Napier was slight. 
Judge Douglas introduced him to me at a ball. He 
stood some seconds without speaking. At last he 
raised his cold blue eyes and asked, " Have you 
been long at this place?" I answered, "No, my 
Lord ! " Ten words had passed between us, with 
which he seemed to be satisfied. But Lady Napier 
I knew well. She returned all visits, and mine 
among the rest. 

England and Russia had been at war, and peace 
had recently been concluded. Of all the foreign 
Ministers I knew best the English and Russian. 
Baron Stoeckle, then the Russian Envoy, and 
Baron Bodisco, his predecessor (I am not sure 
about the " Baron "), I knew very well, and I 
cordially liked their wives. This does not imply 
that their wives, both American, liked each other. 

Madame Bodisco, laden with diamonds, looked 
with disfavor upon Madame Stoeckle, young, blue- 
eyed, and in simple attire. The latter was from 
Massachusetts ; the former had been a beautiful 
Georgetown girl, whom the baron, passing her 
father's orchard, had spied in a blossoming apple 



Madame Bodisco ; Baron Stoeckle 61 

tree, and to whom he had forthwith lost his Russian 
and baronial heart. Madame Bodisco was an en- 
thusiastic Southern sympathizer. At Madame 
Stoeckle's own table, alter she had related an amus- 
ing anecdote, Madame Bodisco whispered to me, 
" Will you listen to that Yankee woman with her 
' says she's ' and * says Fs ' / " 

Of course politics, in this seething time, were 
never alluded to in any company, least of all in the 
presence of our foreign envoys. It required skill ; 
but we kept the talk upon " literature and flowers," 
the birds and fishes of different lands, anything, 
everything, except the topic of all-consuming inter- 
est. But at one of Baron Stoeckle's very genial 
dinners, one of us, to test his ingenuity, said : " Come 
now, Baron ! Here we are, Republican and Demo- 
crat ! Show your colors ! Where do you belong? " 
" Alas, dear lady," said the wily diplomat, " I am 
an orphan ! I belong nowhere ! I am an Old-Line 
Whig." This partv had just become extinct. 

One of the exciting events during the Buchanan 
administration was the arrival in Washington of the 
first embassy from Japan — the Japan which for 
hundreds of years had been governed by the domi- 
nant idea : " to preserve unchanged the condition 
of the native intelligence " and to " prevent the 
introduction of new ideas." The government had 
maintained a rigid policy of isolation, "living like 
frogs in a well," until 1853, when they were rudely 
awakened from their dream of peace and security 
by Commodore Perry sailing into the harbor of 
Yokohama with a squadron of United States war 



6i Reminiscences of Peace and War 

vessels. By dignity, resolution, argument, and 
promise, he extorted a treaty in 1854 — and thus 
Japan entered the family of nations. 

We had much curiosity about the Japanese. We 
read Perry's " Expedition " with keen interest, and 
were delighted with the prospect of receiving the em- 
bassy from the new land. Arrangements were made 
for a series of entertainments, invitations were already 
issued — one to the White House to witness the 
presentation of credentials and the reception of the 
President. 

At last we heard that the strangers had landed 
and would soon arrive. I was in the gallery of the 
Senate Chamber with an intimate friend. We were 
doubtful about going out with the crowd of citizens 
to meet the Japanese, and were hoping that the 
Senate and House would adjourn. Presently a 
member rose and said : " Mr. President, the first 
Ambassadors from the venerable country of Japan 
are about to arrive. I move the Senate do now 
adjourn to meet and welcome the Japanese." 

Immediately another Senator was on his feet, 
not to second the motion, but to say sharply, " Mr. 
President, I humbly trust the Senate of the United 
States of America will not adjourn for every show 
that comes along." That settled it. My friend 
and I hurried to our carriage, and meeting the cor- 
tege, turned just in time to drive side bv side with 
the first landau containing the Ambassadors. 

Our progress was slow and often interrupted — 
and we had abundant time to observe the two digni- 
taries close beside us in the first carriage. They sat, 



Arrival of the first Japanese Embassy 63 

fanning themselves, without looking to right or left. 
The one next me was extremely wrinkled and with- 
ered — doubtless the greater man — and he was so 
wooden, so destitute of expression that I — oh, this 
is much worse than the episode of the ramshackle 
hack! How can I confess that I "lost my head." 
The old creature, with his wrinkled, yellow face, 
turban, short gown, and petticoats looked so very 
like my old mulatto mammy, the darling of my 
childhood, that — I leaned over and put my pearl- 
handled fan on his knee, motioning to him to give 
me his in exchange. The old gentleman looked 
startled for an instant, but he soon understood, and 
I became the first possessor of a Japanese fan. But 
then a strange thing happened ! I was suddenly 
overwhelmed with confusion and sank back beside 
my companion, pulling her parasol well over my face. 
" Was it so dreadful ? " I implored. " I'm afraid it 
was," said she. " Hide your fan from the others. 
We will never tell." Presently she added, thought- 
fully, " I wonder what your Aunt Mary would say ? " 
I did not wonder. I knew perfectly well what my 
Aunt Mary would say. 

All of which goes to prove that it was lucky my 
husband had not taken his wife to Greece, and had 
not accepted the mission to Persia which was offered 
him. He had a wife, unfortunately, who might on 
provocation lose her head. 

The next morning we repaired to the White 
House to help receive the Japanese Embassy. Mr. 
Buchanan would have done well to select his guests 
with regard to their slimness. The East Room was 



64 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

packed. Ranging on either side according to our 
rank, the Congressmen found themselves near the 
wall. We mounted our smallest representative, Mr. 
Boyce, on the low mantelpiece behind some palms 
with instructions to peep and tell us everything he 
saw. " What are they doing now, Mr. Boyce ? " 
" Oh, it's grand ! They bow, and then they bow 
again ! " " Well, what are they saying? What are 
they doing now ? " " They are still bowing, and 
* old Buck,' God bless him, is bowing too." The 
ceremony was long. The murmured voices were 
low. One might have imagined one's self at a 
funeral. 

The Belgian Baron de Limbourg gave a fine gar- 
den party to the strangers. The Baron considered 
himself on the entertainment committee as he had 
recently married the daughter of our Secretary of 
State, Mr. Cass. There were large grounds around 
his residence, and these he lighted with Japanese 
lanterns, dotting the lawn all over with pretty tents, 
in which young girls costumed to represent the 
peasants of various countries served ices and confec- 
tions. The large area in the rear was converted by 
carpets, hangings, and divans into a luxurious Turk- 
ish smoking den. 

The Japanese always presented a pretty work-box, 
filled with curious silks, to the ladies who entertained 
them. They would then range themselves on the 
seats prepared for them and look on silently, with 
half-shut eyes and expressionless faces. The danc- 
ing delighted them. " How much are the women 
paid ? " ventured one, and was amazed to find they 



The Baron de Limbourg's Fete 65 

danced for pleasure only. A tiny, round-faced boy 
was always of the party. We sometimes spoke to 
him, and he invariably answered " all right," until 
he was known as " Little All Right," and, as he 
was the only gracious one of the whole party, he 
became a favorite. 

The Prince de Joinville attended Madame de 
Limbourg's fete. During the afternoon our host 
sent for me, and I was conducted to an alcove where 
the Prince, Miss Lane, Lord Lyons, and some of the 
Cabinet ladies were gathered around a little bottle of 
wine, which was, we were told, old, old Rose wine 

— costing so much that now, what with interest and 
compound interest, every drop was worth — I forget 
how much ! And we were to drink Miss Lane's 
health. " And I ! " — she protested. " I cannot 
drink my own health! Am I to have no wine?" 
Whereupon she was conjured to think her own toast 

— and we would, not knowing her thought, drink 
it with her. 

It was supposed that Lord Lyons was her suitor, 
and we were persuaded that the President desired 
her to marry him. But nobody knows the heart of 
the king, nor the heart of the President (who fills 
in some sort a king's position), still less the heart of 
the President's pretty niece — least of all the heart 
of a wily diplomat ! We only know she married 
one of her own countrymen — and as to Lord 
Lyons, we lost him for good and all when the dread- 
ful war came. 



CHAPTER V 

GAY SOCIAL LIFE IN WASHINGTON 

THE rolls of the Supreme Court, Senate, and 
House of Representatives presented a 
list of great names in 1 854-1 860. It 
would seem that our country, knowing herself to 
be in mortal danger, had summoned the wisest of 
her sons for conference and council : Rufus Choate, 
Curtis, Seward, Douglas, Jefferson Davis, Salmon 
Chase, Sumner, Hale, Toombs, Hunter, Robert J. 
Walker, and the brilliant men of the lower House ; 
all these were present at the great consultation. 

Of these men the most interesting, picturesque, 
and prominent was undoubtedly Stephen A. 
Douglas. His political career is known to a world 
which is still divided in opinion of him. Was his 
fevered life the result of patriotism, or of personal 
ambition ? The world still assumes the power to 
read, with a magnifying glass, the inner workings of 
the human mechanism, and to put its discerning 
finger on the spring of human actions. Who has 
ever seen the heart of another? Who knows his 
own ? By their works ye shall know them, not 
by their impulses, not by their struggles with the 
diverse machinery within them. 

One who liked not Stephen A. Douglas has thus 

66 



Stephen A. Douglas 67 

described him. " Erect, compact, aggressive. A 
personage truly to be questioned timidly, to be 
approached advisedly. Here indeed was a lion, by 
the very look of him master of himself and of others. 
By reason of its regularity and masculine strength, a 
handsome face. A man of the world to the cut of 
the coat across the broad shoulders. Here was one 
to lift a youngster into the realm of emulation, like a 
character in a play, to arouse dreams of Washington 
and its Senators and great men. For this was one 
to be consulted by the great alone. A figure of 
dignity and power with the magnetism to compel 
moods. Since, when he smiled you warmed in spite 
of yourself, and when he frowned the world looked 
grave." 

This was Stephen A. Douglas. The picture is a 
true one. What wonder that he should have 
captivated my husband and myself, scarcely more 
than half his age ? The warmest friendship grew 
up between us. 

I remember well my own first interview with him 
in Washington. At a crowded ball, I had found a 
chair outside the crush, when he approached with a 
bottle of champagne and a glass in his hands. " I 
need no introduction, Madam," he said. " I am 
sure you cannot have forgotten the man who met 
you a few years ago in the little Petersburg hotel 
and told you how like you are to the Empress 
Eugenie. No ? I thought not," laughed the judge, 
" and yet she isn't a priming to our own women ! 
Now," he added, bending down and speaking 
gravely, " I shall send Mrs. Douglas to see you. I 



68 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

wish you to be friends. Not pasteboard friends, 
with only a bit of cardboard passing between you 
now and then, but real good friends, meeting often 
and being much together." Just here, as he poised 
his bottle to fill my glass, his elbow was jostled, and 
down came the foaming champagne, over my neck 
and shoulders and the front of my dress. The 
friendship was christened — the bottle broken on 
the new ship ! l< Don't worry about the gown ! 
You have excuse now to buy another," said the 
judge, as I gasped when the icy flood ran down my 
bosom. 

He had lately married his second wife, the belle 
of Washington, beautiful Adele C$utts ; tall, stately, 
and fair exceedingly. She was a. great-niece of Dolly 
Madison. We met often, and it came to pass that 
" the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of 
David." 

She did not impress one as having what we call 
"depth of character," what is commonly implied in the 
term " superior," not a woman to assume to lead 
and teach other women — a character less lovable 
often than the woman who knows herself to be of 
like weaknesses with ourselves. But she was beauti- 
ful as a pearl, sunny-tempered, unselfish, warm- 
hearted, unaffected, sincere. She was very attentive 
to her " little giant." When he made those terribly 
long speeches in the Senate, on the Lecompton 
Constitution, on the Kansas-Nebraska Bill, on 
popular sovereignty, she would wait in the gallery 
and hurry down to wrap his overcoat around him, 
as he stood in the hall dripping with perspiration. 



Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas 69 

She imbibed enough political lingo to rally and 
amuse him. Some workmen having arrived to 
erect a platform in his ball room for musicians, she 
exclaimed: "Oh, Judge Douglas! What is a 
platform ? They are going to bring one into this 
house, and we shall be flayed alive or murdered in 
our beds ! " 

I said to her once: " You know you are not really 
handsomer than the rest of us ! Why do people 
say so ? " 

" Because I never trick mvself out in diamonds, 
or have more than one color in a gown. An artist 
told me once that all those things spoiled a picture." 

She would have liked the diamonds as well as the 
rest of us, and once said so to her husband. " Oh, 
no ! " he answered, " diamonds are the consolation 
of old wives, a diamond for a wrinkle ! " 

Mrs. Douglas was the first of the Washington 
ladies who adopted the fashion of closing her 
shutters in the early afternoon and lighting her 
rooms with gas. She was delighted as a child with 
the effect and indulged in a preliminary waltz with 
me before the company arrived. " O dear ! " she 
exclaimed, suddenly, " what am I to do with this 
awful picture of Judge Douglas's ? I daren't take it 
away because he bought it for his first wife ; and 
when old Mrs. Martin pounces down upon us to 
see how we are spending her grandchildren's money, 
she will miss it, and think I've sold it ! But isn't it 
awful? Do spread out your flounces in front of it 
as well as you can." The noonday lighting of her 
rooms was a great success. Lord Lyons looked up 



7<d Reminiscences of Peace and War 

and spoke of the beauty of the starlit night, adding 
"and there's a fine moon out of doors." John G. 
Saxe was one of the guests — and his merry hostess 
introduced him as " deserving capital punishment 
for making people laugh themselves to death." 

I have had occasion to allude so often to the 
costumes of the ladies of Mr. Buchanan's adminis- 
tration, that I have resolved boldly to ask my reader 
to accompany me for a few minutes to Vanity Fair, 
as, guided by society reports of the period, I 
describe the dresses worn by the leaders of fashion. 
I suppose the journals of our day would not print 
columns on columns describing the gowns worn at 
balls, unless there were some sure to read. Costume 
has always interested the .world. It is still a question 
whether costume influences character, or vice versa. 
And yet one regrets to treat charming women as 
though they were lay figures. 

There will be a great deal of sorrowful record in 
this book. Let us linger awhile on the flowery 
brink, before we reach the time when the noise of 
angry waters will be too loud to be hushed by the 
frou-frou of a lady's silken gown. Moreover, there 
are always mistakes and misconceptions to be cor- 
rected and set right. Have I not just read in a 
New York daily paper of the ugly fashions of the 
Washington of the times just before the war — the 
" great hoops, gowns of reps, the hideous tints of 
red, the Congress gaiters ; how nobody wore a ball 
gown costing more than $55," etc., etc. ? The Con- 
gress gaiters must be acknowledged, the hoops also, 
but perhaps they may all come again ; and then 




MRS. STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS, 

ne'e ADELE COUTTS. 
From a portrait by C. P. A. Healy, 1865. 



Spacious Times and Tastes 71 

some beauty like the empress of the French may 
arise to make them beautiful. They were large ! 
Beside them Queen Elizabeth's farthingale was an 
insignificant circumstance. The belle in the fifties 
lived in an expansive time. There was still plenty 
ot room in the world. Houses were broad and low, 
carriages were broad and low, furniture was massive. 
Even a small pier glass was broadened by great 
scrolls of mahogany. Drawing-rooms were rilled 
with vast arm-chairs, sofas, and tables. The legs 
of pianos were made as massive as possible. 

Ladies wore enormous hoops, and because their 
heads looked like small handles to huge bells, they 
widened the coiffure into broad bandeaux and braids, 
loaded it with garlands of flowers, and enlarged it by 
means of a wide head-dress of tulle, lace, and feathers, 
or crowned it with a coal-scuttle bonnet tied under 
the chin with wide ribbons. In this guise they 
sailed fearlessly about, with no danger of jostling a 
neighbor or overturning the furniture. They had 
not then filled their rooms with spider-legged chairs 
and tables, nor crowded the latter with frail toys and 
china. Now that so many of these things are im- 
ported, now that the world is so full of people, — 
in the streets, cars, theatres, at receptions, — milady 
has found she must reef her sails. Breadth was the 
ambition of 1 854 — length and slimness the supreme 
attainment of 1904. What would the modern belle 
look like, among all these skyscrapers, in a hoop ? 
Like a ball — nothing more. 

Finding herself with all this amplitude, milady of 
the fifties essayed gorgeous decoration. She had 



72 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

stretched a large canvas ; she now covered it with 
pictures — bouquets and baskets of flowers appeared 
on the woollens for house dresses ; on the fine gauzes 
and silks one might find excellent representations 
of the Lake of Geneva, with a distant view of the 
Swiss mountains. 

When a lady ordered a costume for a ball, her 
flowers arrived in a box larger than the glazed boxes 
of to-day in which modistes send home our gowns. 
The garniture included a wreath for the hair, with 
bunches at the back from which depended trailing 
vines. The bouquet de corsage sometimes extended 
to each shoulder. Bouquets were fastened on gloves 
at the wrist, wreaths trailed down the skirt, wreaths 
looped the double skirt in festoons. Only one kind 
of flower was considered in good taste. Milady 
must look like a basket of shaded roses, or lilies, or 
pomegranates, or violets. Ropes of wax beads were 
sometimes substituted for flowers. 

I once entered a milliner's shop — not my dear 
Madame Delarue's — and in the centre of the room, 
suspended by a wire from the ceiling, was one of 
these huge garnitures — all tied together and de- 
scending down to the floor. "This, Madame," I 
said, " is something very recherche ? " 

" Yes, Madame ! That is the rarest parure I 
have. There was never one like it. There will 
never be another." 

I scrutinized the flowers, and found nothing 
remarkable in any way. 

" That, Madame," continued the milliner, " was 
purchased from me by the wife of Senator ! 



Ancient Sermon on Women's Ways 73 

She wore it to Mrs. Gwin's ball, and returned it to 
me next day. I ask no pay ! I keep it for the 

sake of Mrs. Senator , that I may have the 

honor of exhibiting it to my patrons." 

There is no reason, because we sometimes choose 
to swing back into the ghastly close-fitted skirt, or 
to wrap ourselves like a Tanagra figurine, that we 
should despise a more spacious time. Nor is it at 
all beneath us to attach enough importance to dress 
to describe it. Witness the recent " Costumes of 
Two Centuries," by one of our most accomplished 
writers. Witness the teachings of a theologian 
eighteen hundred or more years ago, who conde- 
scended to illustrate his sermon by women's ways 
with dress ! Says Tertullian : " Let simplicity be 
your white, charity your vermilion ; dress your 
eyebrows with modesty, and your lips with re- 
servedness. Let instruction be your ear-rings, and a 
ruby cross the front pin in your head ; submission 
to your husband your best ornament. Employ 
your hands in housewifely duties, and keep your 
feet within your own doors. Let your garments be 
of the silk of probity, the fine linen of sanctity, and 
the purple of chastity." 

"How does that impress you for a nineteenth- 
century costume?" I asked Agnes my bosom 
friend, to whom I read the passage aloud. " Well," 
she replied, " I should be perfectly willing to try 
the ruby hairpin as a beginning — and get Clagett 
to order the new brand of silk, which sounds as if it 
might be a very pure article indeed and warranted to 
wear well ; but if you are seeking my honest opin- 



74 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

ion of Tertullian, I frankly confess that I think our 
clothes and our behavior to our husbands are none 
of his business." 

Society letters of 1857 give us strictly accurate 
description of toilettes, which may interest some of 
my readers : l — 

" The wealth of the present Cabinet, and their 
elegant style of living, sets the pace for Washington 
soirees — equal in magnificence to the gorgeous 
fetes of Versailles. 

" At the Postmaster-General's the regal ball room 
was lined with superb mirrors from floor to ceiling. 
In the drawing-rooms opposite the host, hostess, 
and daughter and Miss Nerissa Saunders occupied 
the post of receiving. 

" Mrs. Brown was dressed in rose-colored bro- 
cade, with an exquisite resemblance of white lace 
stamped in white velvet, a point lace cape, and tur- 
ban set with diamonds. Miss Brown wore a white 
silk tissue embroidered in moss rosebuds, a circlet 
of pearls on her hair, and natural flowers on her 
bosom. Lady Napier wore white brocaded satin, 
with head-dress of scarlet honeysuckle. Madame 
de Sartige's gown was of white embroidered crepe, 
garnished with sprays of green. The wife of 
Senator Slidell was costumed in black velvet, 
trimmed with fur. Her head-dress was of crimson 
velvet, rich lace, and ostrich feathers. A superb 
bandeau of pearls bound her raven hair. Miss 
Nerissa Saunders was exquisite in a white silk, 
veiled with tulle, the skirts trimmed with rose- 

1<4 Life in Washington, 1858-1859," by M. Windle. 



"Caps, Gowns, and Petticoats" 75 

colored quilling. Mrs. Senator Clay wore canary 
satin, covered all over with gorgeous point lace. 
Mrs. John J. Crittenden was superb in blue moire 
antique, with point lace trimmings. Mrs. General 
McQueen of South Carolina appeared in a white silk 
with cherry trimmings, her head-dress of large pearls 
fit for a queen. Mrs. Senator Gwin wore superb 
crimson moire antique with point lace, and a head- 
dress of feathers fastened with large diamonds. 
Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas, a white tulle dress over 
white silk — the overdress looped with bunches of 
violets and grass, similar bunches on breast and 
shoulder, and trailing in her low coiffure. Mrs. 
Senator Faulkner from Virginia was attired in blue 
silk and Mechlin lace, her daughters in white illusion. 
Mrs. Reverdy Johnson was superb in lemon satin 
and velvet pansies. Mrs. Pringle of Charleston 
wore a velvet robe of lemon color; Mrs. Judge 
Roosevelt of New York velvet and diamonds; 
Mrs. Senator Pugh of Ohio crimson velvet with 
ornaments of rubies and crimson pomegranate 
flowers." 

This last lady, Mrs. Pugh, wife of the Senator 
from Ohio, was par excellence the beauty of the 
day. To see her in this dress was enough to "bid 
the rash gazer wipe his eye." Her eyes were 
large, dark, and most expressive. Her hair was 
dark, her coloring vivid. Mrs. Douglas, Mrs. 
Pugh, and Kate Chase were the three unapproached, 
unapproachable, beauties of the Buchanan adminis- 
tration. The daughter of Senator Chase was really 
too young to go to balls. She was extremely beau- 



y6 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

tiful, " her complexion was marvellously delicate, 
her fine features seeming to be cut from fine bisque, 
her eyes, bright, soft, sweet, were of exquisite blue, 
and her hair a wonderful color like the ripe corn- 
tassel in full sunlight. Her teeth were perfect. 
Poets sang then, and still sing, of the turn of her 
beautiful neck and the regal carriage of her head." 
She was as intellectual as she was beautiful. From 
her teens she had been initiated into political ques- 
tions for which her genius and her calm, thought- 
ful nature eminently fitted her. When she realized 
that neither party would nominate her father for 
President in i860, she turned her energetic mind to 
the formation of plans and intrigues to obtain for 
him the nomination of 1868! She failed in that, 
she failed in everything, poor girl. She wrecked 
her life by a marriage with a wealthy, uncongenial 
governor of Rhode Island, from whom she fled 
with swift feet across the lawn of the beautiful home 
at Canonchet, and hand in hand with poverty and 
sorrow ended her life in obscurity. 

It is going to be a long time before we again visit 
Vanity Fair; and lest it linger too delightfully in 
our memories, we must try to find some rift in the 
lute, some fly in the amber — not daring, however, 
to look beneath the surface. 

And so we are fain to acknowledge that the even- 
ing gowns of these fair dames were liberal only in 
their skirts. The bodice was decollete to the ex- 
tremest limit — as I suppose it will always be. And 
then, as now, — as always, — there was no lack of wise 
men, usually youthful prophets, to preach against 



Decollete Bodices 77 

it, to read for our instruction Solomon's disrespect- 
ful allusions to jewels in the ears of fair women 
without discretion, and St. Paul's well-known re- 
marks upon our foibles. " The idea of quoting 
Solomon as an authority on women," said my 
friend Agnes one day, as we walked from church. 
" I never quote Solomon ! He knew a good many 
women without discretion, some hundreds of them ; 
but he didn't live up to his convictions, and he 
changed his mind very often. He was to my think- 
ing not at all a nice person to know." 

" But how about St. Paul ? " I ventured. 

" I consider it very small in St. Paul to think 
so much about dress anyway ! One would sup- 
pose the thorn in his own flesh would have made 
him tender toward others ; and Timothy must have 
been a poor creature to be taken in by 'braided hair,' 
' gold and pearls, and costly array.' Now, of course, 
we have a few of those things, and like to wear our 
hair neatly ; but I don't see why they are not suitable 
for us so long as we don't live for them, nor seek to 
entangle Timothy." 

" Well," I replied, " I never can feel it is at all 
my affair. I hear it often enough ! But somehow 
St. Simeon Stylites, preaching away on his pillar, 
seems a great way off, and not to know the bearings 
of all he talks about. We listen to him dutifully ; 
but I fancy if we amend our ways we will do it of 
our own selves, and not because of St. Simeon." 

" I wouldn't mind St. Simeon," said my irate friend 
(she had worked herself up to a pitch of indignation); 
" probably he was old and venerable, and to be tol- 



78 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

erated ; but it hurts me to be preached to by a young 
thing like that minister to-day, as if I were a Baby- 
lonish woman ! We don't ' walk haughtily with 
stretched-forth necks, walking and mincing as we 
go, making a tinkling with our feet.' And as to 
our ' changeable suits of apparel,' and the c crimping 
pins,' do we live for these things ? Oar maids 
make a living by taking care of them while we are 
at church hoping to hear of something better than 
crimping pins." 

The lady who expressed these heretical sentiments 
was, as I have remarked, my most intimate friend ; 
and although not older than herself, I considered it 
my duty to reason with her. " But you see, my 
dear Agnes," I said, " we are obliged to be on the 
side of our young preacher, whether we like it or 
not. He is the white-plumed champion riding forth 
from the courts of purity and beauty of behavior. 
We wouldn't like to be the sable knight who 
emerges from the opposite direction." 

" I would ! " declared my young rebel. " Infan- 
tile clergymen should keep to the sins of their own 
sex. Nobody criticises men's dress. They are ex- 
empt. They may surround their countenances with 
Henry VIII ruffs, which make them look like the 
head of John the Baptist on a charger, — nobody 
calls them ridiculous. They wear the briefest surf 
costumes — nobody says they are indecent." 

" But, my dear — " 

" But, my dear, I know all about the matter of 
evening dress. I've studied it up. It is a time- 
honored fashion (I can show you all about it in my 



Opinions of a Society Dame 79 

new encyclopaedia). You remember I let you air 
your learning and quote old Tertullian. Did I look 
bored ? " 

" Not at all. You may tell me now. You can 
finish before we get home." 

" Well, then, the decollete bodice is not a new 
expression of total depravity. It is an old fashion, 
appearing in 1280, with stomacher of jewels. It 
reached England from Bohemia, but was then the 
fashion in Italy, Poland, and Spain. Those times 
were not conspicuous for sentiment, but were quite 
as moral as the times of the Greek chiton, or the 
Roman tunic, or the Norman robe, or the Saxon 
gown." 

" But," I interrupted, " it was out of fashion in 
the high-necked days of Queen Elizabeth." 

" Oh, she had her own reasons for disliking to 
see a suggestive bare throat ! Queen Bess was not 
conspicuous for purity. Don't interrupt me — I'll 
prove everything by the book — lots of good women 
have worn low dresses. Madame Recamier was a 
pretty good woman, and so were our grandmothers, 
and so were the ladies of the Golden Age in Virginia 
who reared the boys that won our independence." 

" All of which proves nothing," I declared ; but 
we had reached our door on New York Avenue, and 
went in for our Sunday dinner. My friend did not 
inflict the encyclopaedia. She had already quoted 
it. What was the use ? We may be sure of one 
thing : no fashion has ever yet been discarded be- 
cause it was abused. No Damascus blade has ever 
been keen enough to lop off an offending fashion. 



CHAPTER VI 

CHARACTERISTICS OF SOCIAL LIFE IN 1 858 

LEADERS IN SOCIETY 

THERE were many brilliant and beautiful 
women who escaped the notice of the society 
newsmonger of the day. 
Mrs. Cyrus McCormick, recently married to the 
inventor of the great reaping machine, was one of 
these. Mr. McCormick, then a young man, was 
destined to be decorated by many European gov- 
ernments and to achieve a great fortune. His 
wife, just out of Miss Emma Willard's school, 
was very beautiful, very gentle, and winning. No 
sheaves garnered by her husband's famous reaper 
can compare with the sheaves from her own sow- 
ing, during a long life devoted to good deeds. 

Then there were Mrs. Yulee, wife of the Senator 
from Florida, and her sisters, Mrs. Merrick and 
Mrs. Holt, all three noted for personal and intel- 
lectual charm ; and beautiful Mrs. Robert J. Walker, 
who was perhaps the first of the coterie to be called 
to make a sacrifice for her country, exchanging the 
brilliant life in Washington for the hardships of 
Kansas — "bleeding Kansas," torn with dissensions 
among its " squatter sovereigns," and with a climate 
of stern severity, where food froze at night and 
must be broken with a hatchet for breakfast. Mrs. 

80 



Influence of Southern Women in Society 81 

Walker shrank from the ordeal, for she was well 
fitted for gay society ; but the President himself 
visited her and begged the sacrifice for the good of 
the country. She went, and bore her trials. They 
were only a little in advance of sterner trials or- 
dained for some of her Washington friends. Nor 
must we fail to acknowledge the social influence of 
Mrs. Jefferson Davis, one of the most brilliant 
women of her time — greatly sought by cultivated 
men and women. 

But the wittiest and brightest of them all was 
Mrs. Clay, the wife of the Senator from Alabama. 
She was extremely clever, the soul of every com- 
pany. A costume ball at which she personated 
Mrs. Partington is still remembered in Washington. 
Mrs. Partington's sayings could not be arranged 
beforehand and conned for the occasion. Her mal- 
apropos replies must be improvised on the moment, 
and must moreover be seasoned with wit to redeem 
them from commonplace dulness. Mrs. Clay rose 
to the occasion, and her Mrs. Partington became 
the Mrs. Partington of the future. 

The reader will not fail to observe the number 
of Southern women who were prominent in Mr. 
Buchanan's court. A correspondent of a leading 
New York paper 1 has recently written an interest- 
ing article on this subject. He declares that the 
Southern women (before Lincoln's day) had long 
controlled the society of Washington. " With their 
natural and acquired graces, with their inherited 
taste and ability in social affairs, it was natural that 

1 New York Herald, February 7, 1904. 



82 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

the reins should fall to them. They represented 
a clique of aristocracy ; they were recognized leaders 
who could afford to smile good-naturedly at the 
awkward and perplexed attempts of the women 
from the other sections — Mrs. Senator This, Mrs. 
Congressman That — to thread the ins and outs 
of Washington's social labyrinth. To none of 
these ladies was the thought pleasant of secession 
from the Union and consequent giving up what- 
ever of social dominion she had acquired." 

I wish I could give some idea of the "days at 
home " of these court ladies in Washington in 1858. 
The large public functions were all alike then as 
now, with this exception, that nearly every man 
present was Somebody, and every woman Some- 
body's wife. It was not necessary for these people 
to talk. The men made little effort. It was well 
known what they had said yesterday in the House 
or the Senate Chamber ; but we dared not express 
opinions in public (and not freely in private), 
such was the tense feeling at that time. Conversa- 
tion had been always, at the South, an art carefully 
cultivated. Conversation suffered at a time when 
we were forced to ignore subjects that possessed us 
with absorbing interest and to confine ourselves to 
trivialities. 

Excusing the silence of one famous man, some- 
body remarked : " Oh, well, you know brilliant men 
do not of necessity talk well. Thrilled by their 
utterances in their speeches and writings, we are 
surprised, when we meet them, at their silence." 
A " famous man's " eye twinkled. " Ask Gait," 



Conversation over the Demi-tasse 83 

he said, " why he doesn't give away his gems. 
Probably he might answer that he proposes to sell 
them," an ingenious way of avoiding the remotest 
hint that silence was the result of preoccupied 
thought on the grave questions of the hour. 

For some inexplicable reason the wives of great 
men are apt to be quiet and non-committal — little 
moons revolving around a great luminary. Moon- 
like, one side only is turned to the world. How 
is it on the other side ? We have a glimpse of it 
over the demi-tasse in the drawing-room after din- 
ner, or at our informal " at homes " in our own 
houses. 

At these times of unbending in Washington we 
were wont to begin in a rather stilted manner, sip- 
ping our coffee and liqueurs in a leisurely way, and 
steering widely clear of politics and politicians. We 
talked of art and artists, galleries in Europe, shops 
in Paris, — anything except what we were all think- 
ing about. The art of conversation suffered under 
such circumstances. But some interesting books 
were just out in England, and everybody was dis- 
cussing them. Thackeray had recently given " The 
Virginians " to the world. Tennyson was turning 
all the girls' heads with " Elaine." A new star 
was rising — George Eliot. Dickens, we were, at 
the moment, cordially hating because of his " Amer- 
ican Notes." Bulwer was well to the fore. Two 
valued members of our own special coterie were 
Randolph Rogers and Thomas Crawford the sculp- 
tor, whose genius, differently expressed, lives to- 
day in his gifted son, Marion Crawford. Thomas 



84 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Crawford had been commissioned by the state of 
Virginia to execute a colossal statue of Washington 
for the Capitol Square in Richmond, a great work, 
— including statues of Virginia's statesmen, — which 
was happily completed in 1861, and from which I 
heard Jefferson Davis's inaugural address, February 22, 
1862, upon his taking the oath as permanent Presi- 
dent of the Confederacy. It was a black day of 
rain and snow ; the new government, destined never 
to flourish in sunshine, was born in storm and 
tempest. 

Thomas Crawford, born in New York in 18 14, 
was now at the height of his fame. He had studied 
and worked with Thorvvaldsen. Apart from his 
peculiar genius he was a charming companion, full 
of versatile talk. The younger man, Randolph 
Rogers, was also most interesting. He brought to 
us his sketches and drawings for the bronze doors 
of the Capitol before they were submitted to the 
committee, and came again when they were ac- 
cepted, to tell us of his good fortune. 

The army and navy people were especially inter- 
esting. They never discussed politics. Their posi- 
tions were assured and there were consequently no 
feverish society strugglers among them. They had 
no vulgar respect for wealth, entertaining charmingly 
within their means. Admiral Porter and his family 
were there, General Winfield Scott was there, the 
admiral (then commander) forty-four years old, and 
the noble old veteran nearer seventy-four. Both 
were delightful members of Washington society. 
Nobody esteemed wealth or spoke of it or thought 



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MRS. CYRUS HALL McCORMICK. 
/^ow <j portrait by Cabanei. 



Over the Low Tea-table 85 

of it. Office, position, talent, beauty, and charm 
were the requisites for men and women. 

On one day, I remember, I had gone the rounds 
of Cabinet receptions, had taken my chocolate from 
the generous urn of the Secretary of State, and 
had dutifully looked in upon all the other Secre- 
taries. I knew a dear little lady, foreign, attached 
to one of the legations (I really never knew whether 
she was Russian or Hungarian), who had invited 
me for the " end of the afternoon." Her husband 
had not a prominent place in the embassy, nor she 
in society, but she knew how to gather around her 
tea-kettle a choice little company, every one of whom 
felt honored to be included. I found her seated at 
a small round table, and she welcomed me in the 
English that gained from a musical voice, and the 
deliberate enunciation of syllable which always seems 
to me so complimentary and respectful in foreigners. 

The fashion of the low tea-table had just been 
introduced. One could have tea, nothing else. 
One could always find behind the silver urns " 'igh 
and 'aughty " butlers serving chocolate, wine, and 
every conceivable dainty at the houses of the great 
Senators, Ministers, and Cabinet officers. Things 
were much more distingue at this lady's tea-table. 
A few earlv spring flowers, crocuses, hyacinths, or 
purple heather, were blooming here and there about 
the room. Our hostess was gowned in some white 
stuff, and there was a bit of classic suggestion in 
her attire, in the jewelled girdle, and an order or 
medal tucked under a ribbon. A little white- 
capped maid welcomed and ushered us, and man- 



86 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

aged to hover about for all the service we were 
likely to require. The impression grew upon me 
that all this had been done for me especially, and I 
found myself thinking how fortunate it was I had 
happened to come. That lovely woman would have 
been so sorely disappointed had I stayed away ! 

But presently other guests arrived. They were 
all foreigners, but perceiving the American presence 
they spoke only English. The hostess put into 
motion the most musical conversation. How has 
she done it ? She has made no effort " to entertain." 
Conversation had come unbidden. Russian tea? 
Why, certainly ! Do we ever care for other than 
Russian tea ? She was deliberate. We forgot we 
were sorely pressed this day with seventeen names 
on our list. We gave ourselves up to the pleasure 
of observing her. 

She lighted her silver lamp ; and, although she 
wished us to see the great shining samovar which 
descended to her from her grandmother, she said it 
was good, very good indeed, in the camp or on 
journeys when one had only charcoal ; but here in 
America the fairy lamp to light the wax taper and 
the alcohol burner beneath the kettle are best. She 
poured the water, which had bubbled, but not boiled 
(boiling water would make the tea flat), over deli- 
cious tea, paused a moment only, then poured the 
steaming amber upon two lumps of sugar, two slices 
of lemon, and one teaspoonful of rum, and we pro- 
nounced it a perfect cup of tea. But our enchantress 
said No, that some day ladies will grow tea in 
their own conservatories, and then only will it be 



Over the Low Tea-table 87 

perfect in this country ; for the ocean voyage spoils 
the delicacy of the sensitive herb. 

Glancing around the table, our hostess grasped 
the situation. Here was a Russian lady with a 
proud head, there two dark-eyed Bohemians, one 
Greek beauty, an English woman, and our own stiff, 
heavy, uncompromising American self! 

She is to make these people happy for the five 
minutes they are around her little board. How 
does it come to pass that these strangers find a 
common ground upon which they can hold animated 
conversation ? 

They talked of genius and geniuses, — how they 
are not created by opportunity or culture, but are 
inspired ; how that, apart from their gifts, they 
are quite like other people, not even cleverer always. 
" Yes," said the Greek girl, with an exalted look in 
her dark eyes, " they are chosen, like the prophets, 
to speak great words or compose immortal music, or 
build symphonies in stone ; and what they do is 
outside themselves altogether." " It is literally 
true," said the Englishwoman, " that people have ' a 
gift ' apart from their ordinary selves. Does not 
George Eliot say that his novels grow in him like a 
plant. No amount of work and study can create 
a genius ! " And then everybody marvels at the 
wonderful young man (for nobody knows it is a 
woman) who has just written " Adam Bede " and 
"The Mill on the Floss." 

Or perhaps the hostess has bribed some one of the 
foreign legation to come to her "at home." Novels 
on Washington life hint of such a possibility. Or 



88 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

perhaps some prince of good talkers among our own 
Ministers is home for a brief holiday, or returned 
from a mission, and a circle gathers around him. 

Our Minister, sent to France by Mr. Pierce, once 
honored me by his presence and told us the follow- 
ing story. Everybody who remembers the genial 
John Y. Mason will easily imagine how he told it, 
and how his own magnetism possessed his listeners. 
Not a tea-cup rattled during the narration. " I 
lived," said Mr. Mason, " at a hotel for a few 
weeks after receiving my appointment as Minister 
Plenipotentiary — while my house was being made 
ready to bring my family. The house was crowded, 
and my landlord was forced to divide one of his 
offices by a thin partition to receive me at all. 

" One night I was awakened by a stifled sob on 
the other side of the partition. Rising on my 
elbow, I listened. The sob was repeated — then 
I heard abusive language and oaths in English — I 
fancied I heard a blow ! Leaping to my feet, I 
struck smartly on the partition, and all was still. 

" The next morning I asked the clerk about my 
neighbors and complained that they disturbed me. 
He shrugged his shoulders and said, ' Mais, Mon- 
sieur ! they are Americans ! ' as if that explained 
everything. However, he informed me that they 
had left the hotel that morning. 

" A few days later I was sitting in my room at the 
legation, when I received a visitor — a slender female 
closely veiled, who said in a troubled whisper that 
she had come to claim protection of the French 
government. I told her I could not confer with 



The Lady who "changed her Mind" 89 

her while she was disguised, and she slowly raised 
her hand and held her veil aside. I never saw a 
lovelier face. 

" She could not have been older than eighteen 
years. Her features were delicate, her eyes large and 
expressive, her brow shaded by golden-brown hair. 
She was deathly white. I never saw such pallor. 
' What can I do for you, my child ? ' I asked. Well, 
it was a sad story. Married to a dissipated young 
fellow, away on her wedding journey; threatened, 
and in terror of losing her life. She wished the 
protection of the police. She said she should never 
have had the courage to ask it alone, but that she 
knew I had slept near her at the Maison Doree. I 
had heard ! I could understand. I was the American 
Minister, and I could help. 

" c But think,' I said, c I heard nothing but harsh 
language. We cannot go with this to the prefet. 
He will not consider it cause for action against your 
husband.' 

" The girl hesitated. Finally, with a burst of 
tears, she unfastened her gown at the throat, turned 
it down, and disclosed the dark print of fingers on 
the delicate skin. 

" It was enough. She had been choked into 
silence — this frail American girl — on the night 
when I heard the smothered sob. 

" Of course you may imagine my zeal in her 
behalf. I had daughters of my own. I arranged 
to accompany the young wife at once to the office 
of the prefet) and having ascertained the address of 
her bankers I resolved to make arrangements to 






90 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

get her out of Paris in case she felt her life to be 
in danger. 

" Well, I waited long at the office of the prefet. 
Finally our turn came. I rose and made my state- 
ment. Imagine my feelings when my fair client 
threw back her veil, and with a surprised look said : 

" ' I think the American Minister has been dream- 
ing ! ' 

" I felt as if a tub of ice-water had been poured 
over me. Of course my position was perfectly 
ridiculous. Before I could recover she had slipped 
through the crowd and was gone. While we waited 
she had changed her mind ! " 

" The wretch ! " exclaimed one of the listeners. 
" That just proves that women are always attracted 
by brutality." 

" Really ? " said Mr. Mason. 

" Not exactly, perhaps, but there was once an 
English countess who explained a divorce suit of one 
of her relatives thus : — 

" ' You see, Ermentrude was one of those women 
who needed kicking down the stairs, and Ferdinand 
was gentle ; he was not up to it ! ' " 

An agreeable function, no longer in vogue in this 
country, was the evening party. Lady Napier gave 
one of these parties to present her friends to Edward 
Everett. 

These parties were arranged that pleasant people 
might meet distinguished strangers and each other. 
As this was the prime object of these occasions, 
there were no blatant bands to make conversation 
impossible, but there was no lack of delightful music. 



The Old-fashioned Evening Party 91 

Miss Noriooa Saunders played exquisitely upon the 
harp ; Mrs. Gales's niece, Juliana May, sang di- 
vinely ; many young ladies had cultivated voices. 
Nobody thought of hiring entertainment for guests. 
The guests were bright talkers and could entertain 
each other. If a ball room were attached to the 
salon, dancing was expected ; but the parlors were 
distant and people could talk ! Of course it is al- 
ways stupid to collect a lot of dull people together, 
but the wives of the brilliant men of Mr. Buchanan's 
administration understood entertaining. There were 
always gifted conversationalists present who liked 
talking better than eating, with cleverness enough 
to draw out, and not forestall, the wit of others. 
This art could not be claimed by the great talkers 
of old English society, Johnson, Macaulay, Cole- 
ridge, De Quincey, and the rest. We should not now, 
I am sure, care much for these monopolists. Sheri- 
dan, for instance, must have been rather a quenching 
element at an evening party ; for in addition to his 
own witty creations, he had a trick of preserving the 
bon mots of others, leading conversation into chan- 
nels where they would fit in, and using them ac- 
cordingly. Thus in talking with Sheridan his friends 
had a dozen wits to cope with withal. 

Our Washington hostesses always gave a supper 
— not a fine supper — a good supper, where the old 
family receipt book had been consulted, especially 
if our hostess had come from Kentucky, Maryland, 
or Virginia. The canvasback ducks, terrapin, and 
oysters were unlike Gautier's. We all know that 
rubies are now less rare in this country than good 



92 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

cooks. We may essay the triumphs of the old 
Washington of the fifties, but beneath our own fig 
tree they become failures and shabby makeshifts. 
There are mysteries in cooking unattainable to any 
but the elect — and of the elect were the sable 
priestesses of the Washington kitchens. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE THIRTY-SIXTH CONGRESS 

WHEN the famous Thirty-sixth Congress 
met for its long session, December 5, 
1859, the whole country was in ferment 
over the execution of John Brown. " An indiscreet 
move in any direction," wrote ex-President Tyler 
from his plantation, " may produce results deeply 
to be deplored. I fear the debates in Congress, 
and above all the Speaker's election. If excitement 
prevails in Congress, it will add fuel to the flame 
which already burns so terrifically." 1 He, and all 
patriots, might well have been afraid of increased 
excitement. It was evident from the first hour 
that the atmosphere was heavily charged. The 
House resolved itself into a great debating society, 
in which the only questions were : " Is slavery right 
or wrong ? Shall it, or shall it not, be allowed in 
the territories ? " The foray of the zealot and 
fanatic aggravated the fury of the combatants. 

The member from Mississippi — L. Q. C. Lamar 
(afterwards Supreme Court Justice of the United 
States) — threw an early firebrand by announcing 
on the floor of the House, "The Republicans are 
not guiltless of the blood of John Brown, his co- 

1 Rhodes' s "History of the United States," Vol. II, p. 417. 
93 



94 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

conspirators, and the innocent victims of his ruthless 
vengeance." Lawrence Keitt of South Carolina 
declared : " The South asks nothing but its rights. 
I would have no more, but as God is my judge, I 
would shatter this republic from turret to founda- 
tion-stone before I would take a tittle less." Thad- 
deus Stevens of Pennsylvania retorted : " I do not 
blame gentlemen of the South for using this threat 
of rending God's creation from foundation to tur- 
ret. They have tried it fifty times, and fifty times 
they have found weak and recreant tremblers in the 
North who have been affected by it, and who have 
acted from those intimidations." Such were a few, 
by comparison with those that rapidly followed, 
of the wild utterances of the hour. This occurred 
on the second day of the session. The House was 
in an uproar! Members from their seats crowded 
down into the aisles, and the clerk was powerless to 
preserve order. " A few more such scenes," said 
one, " and we shall hear the crack of the revolver 
and see the gleam of brandished blade." 

In this spirit Congress proceeded to ballot for its 
Speaker, and balloted for two months (until Febru- 
ary i), before Mr. Sherman was abandoned (having 
withdrawn his name) and a compromise effected by 
the election of Mr. Pennington, who represented 
neither extreme of party. 

During these two months everything was said 
that could be said to fan the flame. Hot disputes 
were accentuated by bitter personal remarks. One 
day a pistol accidentally fell from the pocket of a 
member from New York, and, thinking it had 



Stormy Scenes in the House of Representives 95 

been drawn with the intention of using it, some of 
the members were wild with passion, crying ex- 
citedly for the sergeant-at-arms, and turning the 
House into a pandemonium. John Sherman, who 
had been the unlucky bone of contention, made this 
remarkable statement : " When I came here I did 
not believe that the slavery question would come 
up ; and but for the unfortunate affair of Brown at 
Harper's Ferry I do not believe that there would 
have been any feeling on the subject. Northern 
men came here with kindly feelings, no man approv- 
ing the foray of John Brown, and every man willing 
to say so, every man willing to admit it as an act of 
lawless violence." 

Four years before this stormy election, Banks had 
been chosen Speaker after a contest longer by a few 
days than this. Then, as now, slavery was the point 
at issue ; but " good humor and courtesy had marked 
the previous contest where now were acrimony and 
defiance. . . . Then threats of disunion were re- 
ceived with laughter ; now they were too manifestly 
sincere to be treated lightly." In four years the 
breach between North and South, once only a rift 
in the rock, had become a yawning chasm. What 
might it not become in four years more ? 

Not foreseeing the rapid change of public senti- 
ment, the Democrats had, four years before, selected 
Charleston for the meeting of the convention to 
name their candidate for the presidency. Accord- 
ingly, on April 23, the party was convened in the 
" hotbed of disunion." 

The Northern Democrats had heard much of the 



g6 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

splendor and elegance in which Charlestonians lived, 
and of the Arabian hospitality of the South, which 
could ignore all animosities over the bread and salt. 
But Charleston turned a cold shoulder to its guests 
from the North. All hearts, however, and all homes 
were opened to the Southerners. They dined with 
the aristocrats, drove with richly dressed ladies in gay 
equipages, and were entertained generally with lav- 
ish hospitality. All this tended to widen the breach 
between the sections. 

When the delegates left their fair entertainers for 
the sessions of the convention, the ladies repaired to 
old St. Michael's Episcopal Church, where prayers, 
specially ordered for the success and prosperity of 
the South, were daily offered. "At the same time 
fervent abolition preachers at the North were pray- 
ing for a disruption of the Charleston convention." 

Judge Douglas had written a platform that was 
not acceptable to the South. After its adoption 
seven delegates from Southern states declared their 
purpose of secession. The convention, seeing that 
it was impossible to reach any result, adjourned 
May 3, to meet at Baltimore the 18th of June. The 
seceders resolved to meet at Richmond the second 
Monday of May. This initial movement awakened 
the alarm of at least one devoted son of the South. 
Alexander Stephens wrote to a friend : " The leaders 
intended from the beginning to rule or ruin. . . . 
Envy, hate, jealousy, spite — these made war in 
heaven, which made devils of angels, and the same 
passions will make devils of men. The Secession 
movement was instigated by nothing but bad pas- 



Abusive Epithets, Insulting Manners 97 

sions. Patriotism, in my opinion, had no more to 
do with it than love of God had with the other 
revolt." J In conversation with his friend Johnston, 
shortly after the adjournment of the Convention, 
Stephens said, " Men will be cutting one another's 
throats in a little while. In less than twelve months 
we shall be in a war, and that the bloodiest in history. 
Men seem to be utterly blinded to the future." 2 

The nomination of Lincoln and Hamlin on a 
purely sectional platform aroused such excitement 
all over the land, that the Senate and House of 
Representatives gave themselves entirely to speeches 
on the state of the country. Read at this late day, 
many of them appear to be the high utterances of 
patriots, pleading with each other for forbearance. 
Others exhausted the vocabulary of coarse vitupera- 
tion. " Nigger thief," " slave driver," were not 
uncommon words. Others still, although less unre- 
fined, were not less abusive. Newspapers no longer 
reported a speech as calm, convincing, logical, or 
eloquent, — these were tame expressions. The terms 
now in use were : " a torrent of scathing denuncia- 
tion," "withering sarcasm," "crushing invective," 
the orator's eyes, the while, " blazing with scorn and 
indignation." Young members ignored the saluta- 
tion of old Senators. Mr. Seward's smile after such 
a rebuff was maddening ! No opportunity for scorn- 
ful allusion was lost. My husband was probably 
the first Congressman to wear " the gray," a suit of 
domestic cloth having been presented to him by his 

1 "Life," by Johnston and Browne, p. 365. 

2 Rhodes' s "History of the United States," Vol. II, p. 453. 

H 



98 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

constituents. Immediately a Northern member said, 
in an address on the state of the country, "Virginia, 
instead of clothing herself in sheep's wool, had better 
don her appropriate garb of sackcloth and ashes." 
In pathetic contrast to these scenes were the rosy, 
cherubic little pages, in white blouses and cambric 
collars, who flitted to and fro, bearing, with smiling 
faces, dynamic notes and messages from one Repre- 
sentative to another. They represented the future 
which these gentlemen were engaged in wrecking — 
for many of these boys were sons of Southern widows, 
who even now, under the most genial skies, led lives 
of anxiety and struggle. Thoroughly alarmed, the 
women of Washington thronged the galleries of the 
House and the Senate Chamber. From morning 
until the hour of adjournment we would sit, spell- 
bound, as one after another drew the lurid picture 
of disunion and war. 

Our social lines were now strictly drawn between 
North and South. Names were dropped from 
visiting lists, occasions avoided on which we might 
expect to meet members of the party antagonistic 
to our own. My friend Mrs. Douglas espoused 
all her husband's quarrels and distinctly "cut" his 
opponents. There were very few boxes to be 
had at our little theatre — and the three best were 
usually secured by Mrs. Douglas, Miss Harriet 
Lane, and Mrs. John R. Thompson. The feud 
between the President and Judge Douglas was 
bitter, and Mrs. Douglas never appeared at Miss 
Lane's receptions in the winter of 1 859-1 860. One 
evening we were all in our theatre boxes, Miss Lane 



Rupture of Social Relations 99 

next to us, and I the guest of Mrs. Douglas. Mr. 
Porcher Miles, member from South Carolina, who 
had opposed Judge Douglas's nomination, appeared 
at the door of our box. Instantly Mrs. Douglas 
turned and said, " Sir, you have made a mistake. 
Your visit is intended for next door ! " " Madam," 
said Mr. Miles, "I presumed I might be permitted 
to make my respects to Mrs. Pryor, for whom my 
call was intended." I had the benefit, of course, of 
the private opinions of each, and was able to be 
the friend of each. " This, I suppose, is Southern 
chivalry," said my fair friend. " It savors, I think, 
of ill-bred impertinence." " I had supposed her a 
lady," said Mr. Miles, " or at least a woman of the 
world. She behaved like a rustic — an ingenue." 

I could but receive their confidences in silence, 
perfectly well knowing that both were in the wrong. 
Both were betrayed by the mad passions of the hour 
— passions which caused older heads to misunder- 
stand, mislead, and misbehave ! " I am the most 
unpopular man in the country," said Judge Douglas 
(one of the presidential candidates) ; " I could walk 
from Boston to Chicago by the light of my own 
burning effigies, — and I guess you all know how 
much Virginia loves me." 

I had the good fortune to retain some of my 
Northern friends. The family of the Secretary of 
State was loyal to me to the end. When my hus- 
band was once embroiled in a violent quarrel, grow- 
ing out of sectional feeling, General Cass sent his 
granddaughter, pretty Lizzie Ledyard (my prime 
favorite), with his love to bid me " take heart," that 



Ufa 



ioo Reminiscences of Peace and War 

"all would turn out right." Mrs. Douglas never 
abated one jot of her gentle kindness, although she 
knew we belonged to a party adverse to her husband. 
Mrs. Horace Clarke's little brown ponies stopped 
as often as ever at my door to secure me for a drive 
down the avenue and a seat beside her in the House. 
She had been a Miss Vanderbilt and was now wife 
of a member from New York. All of them were 
prompt to congratulate me upon my husband's 
speech on " the state of the country," and to praise it 
with generous words as " calm, free from vituperation, 
eloquent in pleading for peace and forbearance." 

The evening after this speech was delivered, we 
were sitting in the library on the first floor of our 
home, when there was a ring at the door-bell. The 
servants were in a distant part of the house, and such 
was our excited state that I ran to the door and an- 
swered the bell myself. It was snowing fast, a car- 
riage stood at the door, and out of it bundled a mass 
of shawls and woollen scarfs. On entering, a man- 
servant commenced unwinding the bundle, which 
proved to be the Secretary of State, General Cass ! 
We knew not what to think. He was seventy-seven 
years old. Every night at nine o'clock it was the 
custom of his daughter, Mrs. Canfield, to wrap him 
in flannels and put him to bed. What had brought 
him out at midnight ? As soon as he entered, before 
sitting down, he exclaimed : " Mr. Pryor, I have been 
hearing about secession for a long time — and I would 
not listen. But now I am frightened, sir, I am 
frightened ! Your speech in the House to-day gives 
me some hope. Mr. Pryor ! I crossed the Ohio 



. 



Distress of the President and Secretary of State 101 

when I was sixteen years old with but a pittance in 
my pocket, and this glorious Union has made me 
what I am. I have risen from my bed, sir, to im- 
plore you to do what you can to avert the disasters 
which threaten our country with ruin." 

Never was a spring more delightful than that of 
i860. The Marine Band played every Saturday 
in the President's grounds, and thither the whole 
world repaired, to walk, or to sit in open carriages, 
and talk of everything except politics. Easy com- 
pliments to the ladies fell from the lips of the men 
who could apply to each other in debate abuse too 
painful to remember. Sometimes we would be in- 
vited for the afternoon to sit on the veranda of the 
White House — and who could fail to mark the 
ravages of anxiety and care upon the face of the Pres- 
ident ! All the more because he insistently repeated 
that he was never better — that he slept finely and 
enjoyed the best health. Nevertheless, if one 
chanced to stand silently near him in a quiet corner, 
he might be heard to mutter, " Not in my time — 
not in my time." Not in his time let this dear 
Union be severed, this dear country be drowned in 
blood. 

On other afternoons we visited Mr. and Mrs. 
Robert E. Lee at Arlington, or drove out to George- 
town through the fragrant avenue of blossoming 
crab-apples, or to Mrs. Gales's delightful house for 
tea, returning in the soft moonlight. Everybody 
in Washington dined early. Congress usually 
adjourned at four o'clock, and my little boys were 
wont to be on the roof of our house, to watch for 



102 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

the falling of the flag over the House of Repre- 
sentatives, the signal that we might soon have dinner. 
The evening meal' was late, usually handed. It was 
considered not " stylish " to serve it at a table. A 
servant would enter the drawing-room about eight 
o'clock, with a tray holding plates and little doilies. 
Another would bring in buttered biscuits and 
chipped beef or ham, and a third tray held cups of 
tea and coffee. Some delicate sweet would follow. 
Little tables of Chinese lacquer were placed between 
two or more ladies, and lucky was the man who 
would be invited to share one of them. Otherwise 
he must improvise a rest for his plate on his trem- 
bling knees. " Take care ! Your plate will fall," 
I said to one. "Fall! I wish it would — and 
break ! The only thing that worries me is when 
the blamed thing takes to rolling. Why, I have 
chased plates all around the room until I thought 
they were bewitched or held the secret of perpetual 
motion! " These suppers were very conversational, 
and one did not mind their being so light. There 
would be punch and sandwiches at eleven. 

Such were the pleasant happenings that filled our 
days — clouded now by the perils which we could 
not ignore after the warnings to which we listened at 
the Capitol. We were conscious of this always in 
our round of visits, receptions, dinners, and balls, 
with the light persiflage and compliments still in 
our ears. 

But when late evening came, the golden hour of 
reunion in the library on the first floor of our home 
was marked by graver talk. There would assemble 



Midnight Conferences of Southern Leaders 103 

R. M. T. Hunter, Musco Garnett, Porcher Miles, 
L. O. C. Lamar, Boyce, Barksdale of Mississippi, 
Keitt of South Carolina, with perhaps some visitors 
from the South. Then Susan would light her fires 
and show us the kind of oysters that could please 
her " own white folks," and James would bring in 
lemons and hot water with some choice brand of old 
Kentucky. 

These were not convivial gatherings. These men 
held troubled consultations on the state of the coun- 
try — the real meaning and intent of the North, the 
half-trusted scheme of Judge Douglas to allow the 
territories to settle for themselves the vexed question 
of slavery within their borders, the true policy of the 
South. The dawn would find them again and again 
with but one conclusion — they would stand together : 
" Unum et commune periclum una salus ! " 

But Holbein's spectre was already behind the 
door, and had marked his men ! In a few months 
the swift bullet for one enthusiast, for another 
(the least considered of them all), a glorious death 
on the walls of a hard-won rampart — he the first 
to raise his colors and the shout of victory ; for 
only one, or two, or three, the doubtful boon of ex- 
istence after the struggle was all over ; for all survi- 
vors, memories that made the next four years seem 
to be the sum of life — the only real life — beside 
which the coming years would be but a troubled 
dream. 

The long session did not close until June, and in 
that month Abraham Lincoln was chosen candidate 
by the Republican party for the presidency, and 



104 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Stephen A. Douglas by the Democrats. The 
South had also a candidate, and hoping to make 
things better, the ruffled-shirt gentry — the Old- Line 
Whigs — had also named their man. 

My little boys and I were glad to go home to 
Virginia. A season of perfect happiness awaited 
them, with their sisters and the dear old people 
whom they called grandfather and grandmother. 
Under the shade of the trees, and in the veranda 
covered with Lamarque roses, who could dream of 
war ? 

In the hot and bitter campaign that ensued we 
are told that " Douglas took the unusual course 
for a presidential candidate of visiting different parts 
of the country and discussing the political issues and 
their personal bearings. Speaking on all occasions, 
from the platform of the railroad car, the balcony 
of the hotel, at monster mass-meetings, he said much 
that was trivial and undignified, but he also said much 
that was patriotic, unselfish, and pregnant with con- 
stitutional wisdom. Coldly received at the South, 
where he was looked upon as a renegade, he aroused 
great enthusiasm at the North, and his personal 
presence was the only feature that gave any life to 
the struggle against the Republicans." 1 

The words "irrepressible conflict" were much in 
evidence during this campaign. Seward adopted 
them, and made speeches characterized as his " Irre- 
pressible Conflict Speeches." 2 Seward reaffirmed 
almost everywhere the declaration of the " irrepress- 
ible conflict," and when challenged because of the 

1 Rhodes, Vol. II, p. 493. 2 jfoj 4} Vol. II, p. 495. 



Author of the Words, " Irrepressible Conflict" 105 

term, he "maintained that the Republicans simply 
reverted to the theory and practice of their fathers," 
giving no hint of a quotation. 

The authorship of these words has always been 
credited to Mr. Seward. Their true origin may be 
found in the address of Mr. Lincoln, delivered at 
Cincinnati, Ohio, in September, 1859. On P a S e 
262 of the volume published by Follett, Foster, & 
Co. in i860, entitled "Political Debates between 
Hon. Abraham Lincoln and Hon. Stephen A. 
Douglas," may be found the following extract from 
Mr. Lincoln's speech : — 

" I have alluded in the beginning of these remarks to the 
fact that Judge Douglas has made great complaint of my 
having expressed the opinion that this Government ' can- 
not endure permanently half slave and half free.' He has 
complained of Seward for using different language, and 
declaring that there is an * irrepressible conflict ' between 
the principles of free and slave labor. [A voice : ' He says 
it is not original with Seward. That is original with Lin- 
coln.'] I will attend to that immediately, sir. Since that 
time, Hickman of Pennsylvania expressed the same senti- 
ment. He has never denounced Mr. Hickman ; why ? 
There is a little chance, notwithstanding that opinion in 
the mouth of Hickman, that he may yet be a Douglas man. 
That is the difference ! It is not unpatriotic to hold that 
opinion, if a man is a Douglas man. 

" But neither I, nor Seward, nor Hickman is entitled to 
the enviable or unenviable distinction of having first ex- 
pressed that idea. That same idea was expressed by the 
Richmond Enquirer' in Virginia, in 1 8 56, quite two years before 
it was expressed by the first of us. And while Douglas was 
pluming himself that in his conflict with my humble self, last 



106 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

year, he had ' squelched out ' that fatal heresy, as he de- 
lighted to call it, and had suggested that if he only had had 
a chance to be in New York and meet Seward he would 
have l squelched ' it there also, it never occurred to him to 
breathe a word against Pryor. I don't think that you can 
discover that Douglas ever talked of going to Virginia to 
' squelch ' out that idea there. No. More than that. 
That same Roger A. Pryor was brought to Washington 
City and made the editor of the par excellence Douglas 
paper, after making use of that expression, which in us is 
so unpatriotic and heretical." 

Before we returned to Washington Mr. Lincoln 
was elected President of the United States. 



CHAPTER VIII 

MEMORABLE DAYS IN THE HISTORY OF THE COUNTRY 

A MOMENTOUS day in the history of this 
country was November 6, i860 — on that 
day the extreme party of the North elected 
its candidate, with a Vice-President, making the 
Executive purely sectional. But few people ex- 
pected the fulfilment of the evils so insistently 
threatened as a consequence of this election. 

Not for one moment had we seriously entertained 
the thought of secession. The question of slavery 
in the territories was still unsettled, and the stormy 
scenes in the House might possibly be reenacted. 
Like General Cass, we had heard all our lives rumors 
of possible secession, possible war. Nobody believed 
these rumors — any more than we believed that every 
threatening cloud would burst in a devastating tem- 
pest. It was part of the routine, " the order of the 
day," to enliven things by warm discussions and 
spicy personalities. 

My husband had been unanimously reelected, 
and our delightful Washington life was assured to 
us — certainly for three winters — probably for all 
time. 

We were so deeply concerned about the state of 
the country at large, that his election excited us but 

107 



108 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

little. When the polls closed at sunset, one 
of his political friends came to me and said there 
would be a torch-light procession in his honor, 
that the crowd would call at his residence, and 
the house must be illuminated. " Illuminated ! " 
I exclaimed. " Impossible ! There are not half a 
dozen candles in the house, and the stores are all 
closed. Besides, the babies will be asleep. It 
is bad for babies to be roused from their first 
sleep." 

My friend seemed to appreciate this reasoning ; 
but later in the evening I received a bushel of small 
white turnips and a box of candles, with a pencilled 
note saying that I must cut holes in the vegetables, 
and I would find them admirable candlesticks. The 
little boys and servants went to work with a will, 
and when the drum announced the near approach 
of the cavalcade, every window was blazing with a 
double row of lights, one row on the window-sill, 
the other midway, on the top of the lower sash. 

My young Congressman was considered a brilliant 
speaker, and his talents were sometimes called 
into use in Washington. Some matter of municipal 
interest was supported by him, and another torch- 
light procession gathered late one night around the 
door of the house on New York Avenue. 

" You are not to listen," he said to me, as he 
descended to the front door to speak to the crowd ; 
" I shall say a few words only." I threw a shawl 
over my night-dress and crouched down in a little 
balcony just over his head. To my prejudiced 
mind, his speech was the most graceful and charm- 



Happy Hours before the Storm 109 

ing thing I had ever heard. I was in a delightful 
trance of happiness when he closed, and was rudely 
awakened when, in response to shouts of " Go on, go 
on, we could listen all night," the daring young 
orator deliberately turned and pointed to the balcony 
above him : " Go on, my friends ? Go on, exposed 
to the criticism of one from whose criticism I am 
always trying to escape? " 

I fell back out of sight on the floor. I never 
listened afterward ! 

And among the pleasant happenings of these 
golden days, so soon to be shut in by darkness and 
sorrow, was the presentation to my young Congress- 
man of a beautiful service of silver from his Demo- 
cratic friends of Virginia in recognition of " brilliant 
talents, eminent worth, and distinguished services." 

Mr. Gait made this splendid service, and I 
record it here because it became part of the history 
of the next years of trouble. I should have lost it 
once (in a dark hour), but Mr. Gait bade me keep 
it — that brighter days were in store for me and 
mine, a prophecy which he lived to see fulfilled. 

We were all in our places in November, setting 
our houses in order, several weeks before the 
assembling of Congress. We were warmly wel- 
comed into our pleasant home by Susan, whose 
authority, now fully established and recognized, 
kept us in perfect order. Everything promised 
a season of unusual interest. We now knew every- 
body — and what is more I, for one, liked every- 
body. It takes so little to make a woman happy ! 

In Washington our social life did not begin 



iio Reminiscences of Peace and War 

before New Year's Day. Among our first cards 
this winter was an invitation to the marriage of 
Mr. Bouligny, member from Louisiana, and Miss 
Parker, daughter of a wealthy Washington grocer. 
Rumors reached us of unusual plans for this wed- 
ding. Mr. Parker's large house was to be converted 
into a conservatory filled with blossoming roses 
and lilies. Fountains were to be introduced, new 
effects in lighting. The presents were to be mag- 
nificent, the bridal dress gorgeous. 

Upon arriving at the house (I think it was an 
afternoon wedding) I found the President seated in 
an arm-chair at one end of the drawing-room, and 
the guests ranging themselves on either side. A 
crimson velvet curtain was stretched across the other 
end of the room. Presently the curtain parted, and 
the bridal tableau appeared in position behind it. 
After the ceremony the crowd waited until the 
President went forward to wish the bride and her 
husband " a great deal of happiness." Everybody 
remained standing until Mr. Buchanan returned to 
his seat. I stood behind his chair and observed that 
he had aged much since the summer. 

He had had much to bear. Unable to please 
either party, he had been accused of cowardice, 
imbecility, and even insanity, by both parties. 
" The President is pale with fear," said General 
Cass. " He divides his time equally between pray- 
ing and crying. Such an imbecile was never seen 
before," said another. A double-leaded editorial in 
the New York Tribune of December 17 suggested 
that he might be insane. On the day of the wed- 



The Secession of South Carolina 1 1 1 

ding, December 20, he stoutly denied that he was 
ill. " I never enjoyed better health nor a more tran- 
quil spirit," said the hard-pressed President. " I 
have not lost an hour's sleep nor a single meal. I 
weigh well and prayerfully what course I ought to 
adopt," he had written on that day. 

The crowd in the Parker drawing-room soon 
thinned as the guests found their way to the rooms 
in which the presents were displayed. The Presi- 
dent kept his seat, and I stood behind him as one 
and another came forward to greet him. Presently 
he looked over his shoulder and said, " Madam, do 
you suppose the house is on fire? I hear an unusual 
commotion in the hall." 

" I will inquire the cause, Mr. President," I said. 
I went out at the nearest door, and there in the 
entrance hall I found Mr. Lawrence Keitt, member 
from South Carolina, leaping in the air, shaking a 
paper over his head, and exclaiming, " Thank God ! 
Oh, thank God ! " I took hold of him and said : 
" Mr. Keitt, are you crazy ? The President hears 
you, and wants to know what's the matter." 

" Oh ! " he cried, " South Carolina has seceded ! 
Here's the telegram. I feel like a boy let out from 
school." 

I returned and, bending over Mr. Buchanan's 
chair, said in a low voice : " It appears, Mr. Presi- 
dent, that South Carolina has seceded from the 
Union. Mr. Keitt has a telegram." He looked 
at me, stunned for a moment. Falling back and 
grasping the arms of his chair, he whispered, 
" Madam, might I beg you to have my carriage 



112 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

called ? " I met his secretary and sent him in 
without explanation, and myself saw that his carriage 
was at the door before I reentered the room. I 
then found my husband, who was already cornered 
with Mr. Keitt, and we called our own carriage and 
drove to Judge Douglas's. There was no more 
thought of bride, bridegroom, wedding cake, or 
wedding breakfast. 

This was the tremendous event which was to 
change all our lives — to give us poverty for riches, 
mutilation and wounds for strength and health, 
obscurity and degradation for honor and distinction, 
exile and loneliness for inherited homes and friends, 
pain and death for happiness and life. 

The news was not known, except in official circles, 
until the evening. The night was dark. A driz- 
zling rain was falling ; the streets were almost im- 
passable from mud. 

At the house of a prominent South Carolina gen- 
tleman a crowd soon collected. The street was full 
of carriages, the house brilliantly lighted. 

Admiral Porter, then a lieutenant, had heard the 
startling news, and called at this house to tell it. 
He found the mistress of the mansion descending 
in cloak and bonnet, and as soon as she saw him she 
exclaimed: "Oh, Captain, you are just the man I 
want. I'm going to the White House to tell the 
President some good news. The horses are sick 
and I'm going to walk over." * 

" It is impossible for you to walk through the 
rain and mud," said the Lieutenant. " There are 

1 " Anecdotes and Incidents of the Civil War," Porter. 



Admiral Porter visits South Carolina Friends 113 

ten or twelve hacks at the door, and I will press 
one into your service." So saying, he called a car- 
riage and helped her to enter it, getting in after her. 

" I was under the impression," he said, as they 
started, " that you were having a party at your 
house, it was so brilliantly lighted up, and I thought 
I would venture in uninvited." 

" No, indeed," she replied ; " but we have received 
glorious news from the South, and my husband's 
friends are calling to congratulate him. South Caro- 
lina has seceded, and, oh, Captain, we will have a 
glorious monarchy, and you must join us." 

" And be made Duke of Benedict Arnold ? " 

"Nonsense!" she exclaimed, "we will make 
you an admiral." 

" Certainly," said Lieutenant Porter, " Admiral 
of the Blue. For I should feel blue enough to see 
everything turned upside down, and our boasted 
liberty and civilization whistled down the wind." 

"What would you have?" she inquired. 
" Would you have us tamely submit to all the in- 
dignities the North puts upon us, and place our 
necks under their feet ? Why, this very day my 
blood boiled while I was in Congress, and I could 
scarcely contain myself. An old black Republican 
was berating the Southern people as if they were a 
pack of naughty children. However, Mr. Rhett 
took the floor and gave the man such a castigation 
that he slunk away and was no more heard from." 

Just then they reached the White House. 
"Come in," said the lady, "and hear me tell the 
President the good news." 
1 



ii4 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Lieutenant Porter preferred returning to her 
house. There he found a crowd around a generous 
bowl of punch. When he had an opportunity, he 
asked the host if he thought it possible the South- 
ern states would secede. "What more do they 
want?" he inquired. "They have a majority in 
the Senate and the House, and, with the Supreme 
Court on their side, they could make laws to suit 
themselves." 

" True," his host replied, " most people would be 
satisfied with that. ' Better to bear the ills we have 
than fly to others that we know not of.' But you 
will join us ? You must ! We will have a navy to 
be proud of, and we'll make you admiral." 

" There's one comfort," said an old society dame 
who now joined the party. " South Carolina is a 
fickle young thing and may change her mind ! She 
declared herself ready once before to walk out, — 
you all remember it, — and changed her mind. She 
took off her things and concluded to stay a little 
longer." 

" She has gone for good and all this time, depend 
upon it," said the host. " She was only giving 
warning then ! Her time is up now and she is off." 

Meanwhile the lady of the house was telling the 
President news that was no news to him. He was 
fully prepared to receive it calmly and gravely. I 
had preceded her by some hours. 

Lieutenant Porter little dreamed of the good for- 
tune the secession of South Carolina would bring 
to him. From a poor lieutenant with anxious cares 
about a large family, he was speedily raised by Mr. 



New Year's Day in Washington 1 1 5 

Lincoln to the proud position of rear-admiral of 
the United States. 

His own comment upon the enthusiasm of his 
Southern friends is amusing. He declared that if 
the capital and its surroundings had been less 
stupid, that if those vivacious Southerners could 
have had a court, theatres, and opera-houses, the 
catastrophe which overwhelmed North and South 
might have been prevented. "The Romans 
understood these things better than we. They 
omitted nothing to keep the people amused ; they 
even had the street fountains at times run with wine, 
and the investment was worth the money spent." 
" But what," said Admiral Porter, " could one ex- 
pect at a court presided over by an old bachelor 
whose heart was dead to poetry and love ; who sat 
at dinner with no flowers to grace the festive board, 
and never even had a boutonniere on his coat 
lapel ? " which was one way, at least, of accounting 
for things. 

Of course, we all paid our respects to the Presi- 
dent on the next New Year's Day, and joined the 
motley crowd of men and women of every degree 
who were admitted after the starred and beribboned 
dignitaries from foreign lands had been received. 
" Here I am, Mr. President," said one of the 
witty Southern women, "and my cook will be 
here in a few minutes ! I left her dressing to 
come." 

The day that ushered in the eventful year 1861 
was gloomy out of doors, but within the Executive 
Mansion flowers, music, gay attire, and bright smiles 



n6 Reminiscences or Peace and War 

ruled the hour. " I wish you a happy New Year, 
Mr. President," fell from every lip, but in every 
heart there was a gloomy foreboding of impending 
disaster. What would the year bring to the " way- 
ward sister," whose sons had all gone home? How 
we missed them! — Mr. Porcher Miles, Mr. Boyce, 
Mr. and Mrs. Keitt, always so delightful a part 
of our Washington social life. Some of us might 
expect to return ; but this was adieu, not au revoir, 
to our President. This was his last New Year's 
Day in the White House, not his last day of 
perplexity and trouble. Very soon more wayward 
sisters would depart, and the hour he had dreaded 
would " come in his time." 

There is no time at the President's New Year's 
reception to gather in corners for private talk. We 
must hurry on our rounds to the houses of the 
Cabinet and of the foreign Ministers. Sending the 
gentlemen of our party forward to visit the Senators' 
wives, we hastened home to our own punch-bowl. 

I brewed a mighty bowl that last New Year's 
Day. Dr. Garnett and Judge Scarborough pre- 
sided over the mixing, to be sure that the arrack 
was proportioned rightly, and that there were just as 
many and no more toasted crab-apples than there 
should be. I was assisted by my friend Agnes, 
whom I love to quote, and whose full name I 
should like to give, except for the reason that she 
is now living, and, being a respectable lady of the 
old school, is averse from seeing her name in print. 
In the society journal occasionally, apropos of the 
opera or reception, perhaps, but in a book ! I 
should never be forgiven. 



Parting Words in Congress 117 

Late in the afternoon my rooms were thronged — 
with Virginians and Southerners mainly, but with 
some Northern friends as well, for Virginia was not 
yet classed. Like Touchstone, I was " in a parlous 
state," lest some of my guests who had already hon- 
ored many punch-bowls should venture on forbidden 
subjects. More than one came in on the arm of 
James, but it took a better man than James to con- 
duct him out again and into his carriage. My 
friend who had distinguished himself at my first 
President's dinner was in high feather, as were some 
grave judges I knew. 

There was but one thought in every mind, gay 
or sober. " Is this a meeting of the Girondists ? " 
queried one. * 

" When shall we three meet again ? " 

quoted another. 

"When the hurly-burly's done — 
When the battle's lost and won," 

.was the prompt answer. " Sh-h-h ! " said an old 
army officer. " It is not lucky to talk of lost battles 
on New Year's Day, nor of Girondists' feasts on the 
eve of a revolution." 

The season which was always ushered in on New 
Year's Day resolved itself literally this year into a 
residence in the galleries of the Senate Chamber and 
the House of Representatives. 

Before the 1st of February, Mississippi, Florida, 
Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas had dis- 
solved their bonds with the Federal Union. The 



1 1 8 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

farewell addresses of the Representatives of the se- 
ceded states became the regular order of the day. 
Jefferson Davis's final farewell closed with these 
solemn words : " May God have us in His holy 
keeping, and grant that, before it is too late, peace- 
ful counsels may prevail." 

Virginia, had she retained her original colonial 
bounds, could have dictated to the rest. Now, 
should she elect to join the Southern Confederacy, 
the states she had given to the Union — her own 
children — would be arrayed against her. 

Virginia now essayed to arbitrate. Her Peace 
Commission met in Washington, but without result, 
except that it was for her a fleeting moment of 
enthusiasm. 

Mr. Kellogg of Illinois said : " She has thrown 
herself into the breach to turn aside the tide of dis- 
union and revolution, and she says to the nation, ' Be 
united and be brothers again.' God bless the Old 
Dominion !" Said Mr. Bigler of Pennsylvania, Jan- 
uary 21 : "Pennsylvania will never become the en- 
emy of Virginia ! Pennsylvania will never draw the 
sword on Virginia." 

Apprehension was felt lest the new President's 
inaugural might be the occasion of rioting, if not 
of violence. We were advised to send our women 
and children out of the city. Hastily packing my 
personal and household belongings to be sent after 
me, I took my little boys, with their faithful nurse, 
Eliza Page, on board the steamer to Acquia Creek, 
and, standing on deck as long as I could see the 
dome of the Capitol, commenced my journey home- 



The Setting Sun of a Happy Day 119 

ward. My husband remained behind, and kept his 
seat in Congress until Mr. Lincoln's inauguration. 
He described that mournful day to me — differing 
so widely from the happy installation of Mr. Pierce. 
" O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear." Every 
one was oppressed by it, and no one more than the 
doomed President himself. 

We were reunited a few weeks afterward at our 
father's house in Petersburg ; and in a short time 
my young Congressman had become my young 
colonel — and Congressman as well, for as soon 
as Virginia seceded he was elected to the Provisional 
Congress of the Confederate States of America, and 
was commissioned colonel by Governor Letcher. 

I am afraid the evening is at hand, when we must 
bid adieu to the bright days — the balls, the merry 
hair-dresser, the round of visits, the levees, the charm- 
ing " at homes." The setting sun of such a day 
should pillow itself on golden clouds, bright har- 
bingers of a morning of beauty and happiness. 
Alas, alas ! " whom the gods destroy they first 
infatuate." 



CHAPTER IX 

RAPID PROGRESS OF EVENTS AT THE SOUTH 

WHEN it was disclosed that a majority of 
the Virginia Convention opposed taking 
the state out of the Union, the secession- 
ists became greatly alarmed ; for they knew that 
without the border states, of which Virginia was the 
leader, the cotton states would be speedily crushed. 
They were positively certain, however, that, in the 
event of actual hostilities, Virginia would unite with 
her Southern associates. Accordingly, it was deter- 
mined to bring a popular pressure to bear upon the 
government at Montgomery to make an assault 
on Fort Sumter. To that end my husband went 
to Charleston, and delivered to an immense and 
enthusiastic audience, a most impassioned and ve- 
hement speech, urging the Southern troops to " strike 
a blow," and assuring them that in case of conflict, 
Virginia would secede " within an hour by Shrews- 
bury clock." The blow was struck ; Mr. Lincoln 
called upon Virginia for a quota of troops to subdue 
the rebellion, and the state immediately passed an 
ordinance of secession. 

Mr. Pryor, with other gentlemen, was deputed by 
General Beauregard to demand the surrender of the 
fort, and in case of the refusal which he foresaw, 



Fall of Fort Sumter — Peace Ambassadors 121 

to direct the commandant of battery, Johnson, to 
open fire. When the order was delivered to the 
commandant, he invited my husband to fire the first 
shot ; but this honor my husband declined, and in- 
stead suggested the venerable Edmund Ruffin, an 
intense secessionist, for that service. It was the 
prevalent impression at the time, that Mr. Ruffin 
did "fire the first gun"; at all events he fired, to 
him, the last ; for on hearing of Lee's surrender, 
Cato-like, he destroyed himself. 

I have often wondered what would have been the 
effect upon the fortunes of our own family, had my 
husband fired the shot that ushered in the war. 
Even had his life been spared, he certainly would 
not have become an eminent lawyer in the state of 
New York and a justice of its Supreme Court. 

Fort Sumter was reduced on April 12, and 
Virginia was in a wild state of excitement and con- 
fusion. 

The deputation sent to Washington in the in- 
terests of peace had failed in its mission. The 
Convention of 1861 was in session at Richmond 
as early as April 11 — sitting with closed doors. 
The people were wrought to the highest pitch of 
anxiety lest the conservative spirit of the older men 
should triumph and should lead them to prefer sub- 
mission, which would mean dishonor, to secession, 
which could mean nothing worse than death. 

Business was practically suspended in Richmond 
and Petersburg ; men crowded the streets to learn 
the latest news from the North, and were inflamed 
by reports of the arrest and incarceration in Fort 



122 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Lafayette of Southern sympathizers. As crowds 
gathered in different localities the advocates of seces- 
sion addressed them in impassioned speeches which 
met with hearty response from the people. 

On April 16, a body, calling itself the Spon- 
taneous People's Convention, met and organized in 
the Metropolitan Hall at Richmond. The door 
was kept by a guard with a drawn sword in his 
hand. David Chalmers of Halifax County was 
president, and Willoughby Newton, vice-president. 

Patrick Henry Aylett, grandson of Patrick Henry, 
made a noble speech, urging moderation and delay; 
warmer speeches followed. A Southern flag was 
raised on the capitol amid shouts of applause, but at 
midnight the governor had it removed, for the 
convention had not yet passed the ordinance of 
secession, and those who rose with the dawn of the 
next eventful day found the state flag calmly float- 
ing in its place. 

I was a guest of the government house at this 
time, and in the calm and seclusion of Mrs. Letcher's 
rooms I missed much of the excitement. She was 
a motherly, domestic woman, who chose to ignore 
outside disturbances for the sake of present peace. 
We talked together of family matters, as we sewed 
upon little gowns and pinafores, indulged in remi- 
niscences of the Washington life which we had en- 
joyed together, and said very little of the troubles 
of the hour. Mrs. Letcher thought the political 
storm must pass. It was hard to bear; the gov- 
ernor was nervous and sleeping badly, but quiet 
would surely come, and when it did — why, then, 



Virginia passes Ordinance of Secession 123 

we would all go down to Old Point Comfort for 
June, bathe in the sea, and get strong and well. 
As for fighting — it would never come to that! 

On the memorable day of the 17th the "Spon- 
taneous Convention " again met to discuss a new 
political organization of the state. While they 
argued and struggled, Lieutenant-Governor Mon- 
tague entered the hall with momentous news. An 
ordinance of secession had been passed by the 
State Convention. This announcement was fol- 
lowed by a thrilling moment of silence succeeded 
by tears of gladness and deafening shouts of applause. 
The venerable ex-President Tyler made a stirring 
address. He gave a brief history of the struggles of 
the English race from the days of the Magna Charta 
to the present time, and solemnly declared that at 
no period of the history of our race had we ever 
been engaged in a more just and holy effort for the 
maintenance of liberty and independence than at the 
present moment. The career of the dominant party 
at the North was but a series of aggressions which 
fully warranted our eternal separation ; and if we 
performed our duty as Christian patriots, the same 
God who favored the cause of our forefathers in the 
Revolution of 1776 would crown our efforts with 
success. Generations yet unborn would bless those 
who had the high privilege of participating in the 
present struggle. A passionate speech followed from 
ex-Governor Wise. He alluded to a rumor that 
one of his children had been seized and held as hos- 
tage at the North. "But," he said, "if they sup- 
pose hostages of my own heart's blood will stay my 



124 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

hand in the maintenance of sacred rights, they are 
mistaken. Affection for kindred, property, and life 
itself sink into insignificance in comparison with the 
overwhelming importance of public duty in such a 
crisis as this. Virginia is smitten with blindness, in 
that she does not at once seize Washington before 
the Republican hordes get possession of it." The 
Hon. J. M. Mason and others followed in the same 
strain. Governor Letcher appeared, and pledged 
himself to discharge his whole duty as executive of 
the state in conformity with the will of the people 
and the provisions of the constitution. The ordi- 
nance could not become a law until it was ratified by 
the people — and they would be called to vote upon 
it on May 23. " Not until then," said an ex- 
Congressman," will those fellows in Washington 
know we are Secessionists ! " " Never as Secession- 
ists ! " said another; "I detest the word. We 
are revolutionists, — rebels, as our fathers were." 
" But perhaps," ventured one of the old Washing- 
ton coterie, to Mr. Hunter, " perhaps the people 
will not vote us out of the Union after all." " My 
dear lady," said the ex-Senator, proudly, " you may 
place your little hand against Niagara with more cer- 
tainty of staying the torrent than you can oppose 
this movement. It was written long ago in the 
everlasting stars that the South would be driven out 
of the Union by the North." 

The fate of Virginia had been decided April 15, 
when President Lincoln demanded troops for the 
subjugation of the seceding states of the South. 
The temper of Governor Letcher of Virginia was 



Rally of Virginians 125 

precisely in accord with the spirit that prompted 
Governor Magoffin of Kentucky to answer to a 
similar call for state militia : " Kentucky will fur- 
nish no troops for the wicked purpose of subduing 
her sister Southern states!" Until this call of the 
President, Virginia had been extremely averse from 
secession, and even though she deemed it within her 
rights to leave the Union, she did not wish to pledge 
herself to join the Confederate States of the South. 
Virginia was the Virginian's Country. The com- 
mon people were wont to speak of her as "The Old 
Mother." "The mother of us all," a mother so 
honored and loved that her brood of children must 
be noble and true. 

Her sons had never forgotten her ! She had 
fought nobly in the Revolution and had afterward 
surrendered, for the common good, her magnificent 
territory. Had she retained this vast dominion, she 
could now have dictated to all the other states. She 
gave it up from a pure spirit of patriotism — that 
there might be the fraternity which could not exist 
without equality, — and in surrendering it, she had 
reserved for herself the right to withdraw from the 
Confederation whenever she should deem it ex- 
pedient for her own welfare. There were leading 
spirits who thought the hour had come when she 
might demand her right. She was not on a plane 
with the other states of the Union. " Virginia, New 
York, and Massachusetts had expressly reserved the 
right to withdraw from the Union, and explicitly 
disclaimed the right or power to bind the hands of 
posterity by any form of government whatever." 



126 Reminiscences of f'eace and War 

And so the question of the hour with Virginia 
was not the right to introduce slavery into the ter- 
ritories. Nothing was said or thought about slavery. 
The question was of states' rights only. 

One need but go back to the original treaties with 
France and England in 1778 and 1783, to under- 
stand the origin and root of this feeling with the 
Virginians of 1861. France had made her treaty of 
perpetual alliance with the "Thirteen United 
Colonies," naming each one separately as one of the 
contracting parties. The king of England had 
named each one separately to be " free, sovereign 
and independent states " and " that he treated with 
them as such." 

Said old John Janney, a Union man and president 
of the Convention of 1861, when taxed with having 
taken sides with Virginia against the Union, " Vir- 
ginia, sir, was a nation one hundred and eighty 
years before your Union was born." 

Another strong party was the " Union Party," 
sternly resolved against secession, willing to run the 
risks of fighting within the Union for the rights of 
the state. This spirit was so strong, that any hint 
of secession had been met with angry defiance. A 
Presbyterian clergyman had ventured, in his morn- 
ing sermon, a hint that Virginia might need her sons 
for defence, when a gray-haired elder left the church 
and, turning at the door, shouted " Traitor ! " This 
was in Petersburg, the birthplace of General Win- 
field Scott. 

And still another party was the enthusiastic seces- 
sion party, resolved upon resistance to coercion ; the 



Federal Troops enter Virginia 127 

men who could believe nothing good of the North, 
should interests of that section conflict with those 
of the South ; who cherished the bitterest resent- 
ments for all the sneers and insults in Congress ; 
who, like the others, adored their own state and were 
ready and willing to die in her defence. Strange to 
say, this was the predominating spirit all through 
the country, in rural districts as well as in the small 
towns and the larger cities. It seemed to be born 
all at once in every breast as soon as Lincoln 
demanded the soldiers. 

The "overt act" for which everybody looked 
had been really the reenforcement by Federal troops 
of the fort in Charleston Harbor. When Fort 
Sumter was reduced by Beauregard, " the fight was 
on. 

On May 23 Virginia ratified an ordinance of 
secession, and on the early morning of May 24 
the Federal soldiers, under General Winfield Scott, 1 
crossed the Potomac River and occupied Arlington 
Heights and the city of Alexandria. "The inva- 
sion of Virginia, the pollution of her sacred soil as 
it was termed, called forth a vigorous proclamation 
from her governor and a cry of rage from her press." 
General Beauregard issued a fierce proclamation, tend- 
ing to fire the hearts of the Virginians with anger. 
" A reckless and unprincipled host," he declared, 
" has invaded your soil," etc., etc. 

General Scott, our father's groomsman, was knock- 
ing at the doors of the " fair ladies " he loved, with 
the menace of torch and sword. 

1 Rhodes, Vol. Ill, p. 435. 



128 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

And now there was a mighty gathering of the 
sons of " The Old Mother ! " She raised her stand- 
ard, "Sic semper tyrannis" and from every quarter 
of the globe they rallied to her defence, not scurrying 
home for shelter from the storm, but coming to 
place their own breasts between her and the blast, — 
descendants of men who had won freedom in 1776, 
of Light Horse Harry Lee, of Peter Johnson, 
Ensign of the Legion, — Robert E. Lee, Joseph E. 
Johnston, Thomas Jackson, "Jeb" Stuart, A. P. 
Hill, Musco Garnett, Roger A. Pryor, Austin Smith 
from far San Francisco, Dr. Garnett from Washing- 
ton, Bradfute Warwick from Naples, Powhatan 
Clark from Louisiana, Judge Scarborough from the 
Court of Claims at Washington, Judge Campbell, 
Associate Justice of the Supreme Court at Washing- 
ton, and multitudes of others ! " The very earth 
trembled at the tramp of the Virginians as they 
marched to the assize of arms of the Mother of 
them all. From every continent, from every clime, 
from all avocations, from the bar, the pulpit, the 
counting-room, the workshop, the Virginians came. 

" ' Theirs not to reason why, 
Theirs but to do and die! ' " * 

Among them was a descendant of old Sir Hum- 
phrey Gilbert, — him of the sinking ship on his way 
to Virginia, — who cried as he went down : " Be of 
good cheer, my friends ! It is as near heaven by 
sea as by land." 

1 "Life of Joseph E. Johnston," by General Bradley Johnson, p. 32. 



Enthusiasm of Virginia Women 129 

And among them were some who quoted old Sir 
George Somers of the Sea Venture, who drew around 
him his crew and exhorted them to " be true to duty 
and to return to Virginia." 

General Bradley Johnson says these words of the 
old knight rang like a trumpet all over the country 
in the early days of the war wherever there was a 
Virginian. " Be true to duty and return to Vir- 
ginia ! " And few, very few, failed to obey the call. 

It is well known that General Lee did not 
approve the hasty, ill-considered action of the early 
seceders from the Union. He foresaw the perils 
and doubtful results of such action. He knew that 
war — as my own husband had so earnestly said in 
Congress — "meant widows and orphans, the pun- 
ishment of the innocent, the ruin of the fortunes of 
all." Still, the "Old Mother" had been forced to 
accept it at the hands of others. The simple ques- 
tion was : " With or against blood and kin ? For 
or against the Old Mother ? " And the question 
answered itself in the asking. 

I am sure that no soldier enlisted under Virginia's 
banner could possibly be more determined than the 
young women of the state. They were uncom- 
promising. 

" You promised me my answer to-night," said a 
fine young fellow, who had not yet enlisted, to 
his sweetheart. 

" Well, you can't have it, Ben, until you have 
fought the Yankees," said pretty Helen. 

" What heart will I have for fighting if you give 
me no promise ? " 



130 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" I'll not be engaged to any man until he has 
/ought the Yankees," said Helen, firmly. " You 
distinguish yourself in the war, and then see what 
I'll have to say to you." 

This was the stand they took in Richmond and 
Petersburg. Engagements were postponed until 
they could find of what mettle a lover was. 

" But suppose I don't come back at all ! " sug- 
gested Ben. 

" Oh, then I'll acknowledge an engagement and 
be good to your mother, — and wear mourning all 
the same — provided — your wounds are all in 
front." 

A few days before the vote was taken upon the 
ordinance of secession we had a fine fright in Rich- 
mond. An alarm was rung in the Capitol Square, 
and thousands of people filled the streets to learn 
the cause of its warning. Presently notices were 
posted all over the city that the Pawnee — a war-ship 
of the United States — was steaming up the James 
River with the purpose of shelling the mansions on 
the banks, and of finally firing on Richmond. We 
had friends living in those fine colonial mansions 
all along the river, — at Claremont, Upper and 
Lower Brandon, Shirley, Westover, — dear old ladies 
who were unprotected, and would be frightened to 
death. For ourselves in Richmond and Petersburg 
there would be no personal danger, we could 
escape ; but our mills and shipping would be 
destroyed. 

I think I am within the bounds of truth when I 
say that every man and boy capable of bearing gun 



Mustering into Service 131 

or pistol marched with the soldiers and artillery 
down to the riverside, determined to defend the city. 
There they waited until the evening, the howitzers 
firing from time to time to forewarn the war-ship of 
their presence. 

A little after sunset the crowd turned its face 
homeward. News had been received that the 
Pawnee had steamed up the river a short distance, 
had thought better of it, and had turned around and 
gone back to her mooring. All the same one thing 
was certain, the war-ship " bristling with guns " was 
there. She could steam up the river any night, and 
probably would when it pleased her so to do. 

When I returned to my father's home in Peters- 
burg, I found my friends possessed with an intense 
spirit of patriotism. The First, Second, and Third 
Virginia were already mustered into service ; my 
husband was colonel of the Third Virginia Infantry. 
The men were to be equipped for service immedi- 
ately. All of "the boys" were going — the three 
Mays, Will Johnson, Berry Stainback, Ned Gra- 
ham, all the young, dancing set, the young lawyers 
and doctors — everybody, in short, except bank 
presidents, druggists, a doctor or two (over age), and 
young boys under sixteen. 

To be idle was torture. We women resolved 
ourselves into a sewing society — resting not on 
Sundays. Sewing-machines were put into the 
churches, which became depots for flannel, muslin, 
strong linen, and even uniform cloth. When the 
hour for meeting arrived, the sewing class would be 
summoned by the ringing of the church bell. My 



132 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

dear Agnes was visiting in Petersburg, and was my 
faithful ally in all my work. We instituted a mon- 
ster sewing class, which we hugely enjoyed, to meet 
daily at my home on Market Street. My Colonel 
was to be fitted out as never was colonel before. 
He was ordered to Norfolk with his regiment to 
protect the seaboard. I was proud of his colonel- 
ship, and much exercised because he had no 
shoulder-straps. I undertook to embroider them 
myself. We had not then decided upon the star 
for our colonels' insignia, and I supposed he 
would wear the eagle like all the colonels I had 
ever known. No embroidery bullion was to be had, 
but I bought heavy bullion fringe, cut it in lengths, 
and made eagles, probably of some extinct species, 
for the like were unknown in 'Audubon's time, and 
have not since been discovered. However, they 
were accepted, admired, and, what is worse, worn. 

The Confederate soldier was furnished at the be- 
ginning of the war with a gun, pistol, canteen, tin 
cup, haversack, and knapsack — no inconsiderable 
weight to be borne in a march. The knapsack con- 
tained a fatigue jacket, one or two blankets, an oil- 
cloth, several suits of underclothing, several pairs 
of white gloves, collars, neckties, and handkerchiefs. 
Each mess purchased a mess-chest containing dishes, 
bowls, plates, knives, forks, spoons, cruets, spice- 
boxes, glasses, etc. Each mess also owned a fry- 
ing-pan, oven, coffee-pot, and camp-kettle. The 
uniforms were of the finest cadet cloth and gold 
lace. 

This outfit — although not comparable to that of 



Soldiers' Outfits made by Virginia Women 133 

the Federal soldiers, many of whom had "Saratoga" 
trunks in the baggage train, was considered sump- 
tuous by the Confederate volunteer. 

As if these were not enough, we taxed our in- 
genuity to add sundry comforts, weighing little, by 
which we might give a touch of refinement to the 
soldier's knapsack. 

There was absolutely nothing which a man might 
possibly use that we did not make for them. We 
embroidered cases for razors, for soap and sponge, 
and cute morocco affairs for needles, thread, and 
court-plaster, with a little pocket lined with a bank- 
note. " How perfectly ridiculous ! " do you say ? 
Nothing is ridiculous that helps anxious women to 
bear their lot — cheats them with the hope that they 
are doing good. 



CHAPTER X 

VIRGINIA AGAIN THE BATTLE-GROUND 

THE day came at last when our regiments 
were to march. They were to rendezvous 
at the head of Sycamore Street, and march 
down to the lower depot. Every old man and boy, 
matron, maiden, and child, every family servant, 
assembled to bid them God-speed. 

The reigning belles and beauties of Petersburg 
were all there, — Alice Gregory, Tabb Boiling, 
Molly and Augusta Banister, Patty Hardee, Mary 
and Marion Meade, pretty Helen, and my own 
friend Agnes. 

" We are not to cry, you know," said Agnes, lay- 
ing down the law by right of seniority. 

" Of course not ! " said Helen, winking away her 
tears and smiling. 

Just then the inspiring notes of " Dixie," with 
drum and clash of cymbal, rent the air — the first 
time I had heard that battle-song. 

" Forward! March! " And they were moving in 
solid ranks, all of us keeping step on the sidewalk, 
down to the depot. 

When the men were on board, and the wheels 
began to move, Ben leaned out of his window and 
whispered to Helen, just below him : — 

134 



Enthusiastic Welcome to Beauregard 135 

" Can't I have the promise now, Helen ? " 

"Yes, yes, Ben — dear Ben, I promise!" and as 
the cars rolled away she turned and calmly an- 
nounced, " Girls, I'm engaged to Ben Shepard." 

"I'm engaged to half a dozen of them," said one. 

" That's nothing," said another, " I'm engaged to 
the whole regiment." 

Poor little Helen — but 1 must not anticipate. 

After the soldiers left, silence and anxiety fell 
upon the town like a pall. What should we do 
next ? This was the question we asked each other ; 
and it was answered by one of our dear women. 

" We will hold a prayer meeting in each other's 
houses, at four o'clock every afternoon. We can 
pray, if we cannot fight." 

This meeting was held daily throughout the years 
of the war — and comfort through its influence came 
to many a sorrowful heart. 

But the lull was of short duration. The South was 
sending troops to help old Virginia. 

I think Beauregard's veterans can never forget 
their reception in Petersburg. We were forewarned 
of their coming. We sent our servants laden with 
trays of refreshments, we went ourselves to the 
depot with flowers. Beauregard, our idol, the 
gallant, dashing Beauregard, hurriedly shook hands 
with us and filled his arms with our flowers ; then, — 
"All aboard," — and off again, to be heard from 
very soon at Bull Run. 

Other regiments passed through town, and none 
left without being refreshed. The railroad whistles 
instructed us as to numbers. 



136 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

It was a happy day for me when a telegram came 
from my Colonel at Norfolk : " Suppose you pay 
me a visit ! " There could be but one answer. 

When the day of my departure arrived I was at 
the depot of the train which was to take me to City 
Point, long before the time of starting ; and when I 
reached the terminus of the short railroad, I was in 
terror lest the Richmond boat might have gone on 
its way without stopping for us. Would it never 
come ? Surely something had happened ! " Oh, 
Captain," I cried for the third time, as that function- 
ary paced to and fro in front of his little engine, 
" do you think the boat — " "In a moment, lady," 
said the Captain, " the boat is just coming round the 
Point ; " and sure enough, there she was, slowing up 
to pick up the happiest woman in the world. 

I can imagine few journeys more delightful than a 
sail down the James River on a lovely summer day. 
The river itself is not a clear stream of silver- like 
the Potomac. Every stream that enters it is yellow 
with the peculiar clay of the country through which 
it passes. But the James is, par excellence, the roman- 
tic river of our country, though not like the beauti- 
ful Hudson, misty with the dreams of Washington 
Irving. The historic James needs no imaginings to 
enhance its charm. Seated on the forward deck, one 
glides softly over enchanted waters. Could the 
veil which hides the future have been lifted from my 
vision on this glorious noonday, what would have 
been my sensations. Here at City Point, in the 
venerable ivy-clad home of the Epes family, General 
Grant would in three short vears make his head- 



Randolphs and Ishams 137 

quarters, and would entertain President Lincoln, 
General Sherman, and Admiral Porter. 

Across the river the elegant colonial house of 
Shirley was basking in the summer sun. Here the 
Carters had lived since 1720. Here Light Horse 
Harry Lee had found his sweet wife, Anne Hill 
Carter. Here, too, was the fine portrait of Washing- 
ton by Peale, and other Revolutionary treasures. 

Next to Shirley, a little higher up the river, was 
Turkey Island, where the English explorers had 
rejoiced to find, in great numbers, the Christmas 
bird, known in the mother country as early as 1527. 
Here had lived the wealthy king's councilman, 
William Randolph, who had come to Virginia in 
the good times after King Charlie had returned to 
"enjoy his own again"; and here he had built a 
goodly house, with a portico on three sides, sur- 
mounted by a dome visible a great way off to 
navigators of the James River, the whole sur- 
mounted by an aerial structure called the " bird cage 
because many birds do hover and sing about it." 
Seven years were required to complete this mansion 
— and all these seven years, doubtless, its master 
was serving like Jacob, hoping to cage one fair bird 
for himself. 

Just across the river, at Bermuda Hundred, lived 
Henry Isham, Gent : and his wife Dame Katherine ; 
and thither came William Randolph to smoke with 
the master " a pipe of tobacco kept in a lily pot, 
cut on a maple block, lighted with a coal taken with 
silver tongs from a brasier of juniper" — for these 
were the incantations wherewith the early Virginian 



138 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

wooed the subtle influences of the new gift of the 
gods. And as they smoked, pretty Mary Isham 
played on her " cittern " to the soothing accompani- 
ment of the lapping waves of the river. She was a 
fit mate for the young aristocrat. He could trace 
his lineage " from the great Earls Murray, nay, from 
royalty itself"; but gentle Mary could boast on 
her family tree nobler fruit than these : the Dukes of 
Normandy — Longue-Epee and Sanspeur — Hugh 
Capet of France ; the Saxon kings of England ; the 
Magna Charta barons ; and that noble house of 
De Vere, which bore on its standard the lone star, 
because one of their blood, hard pressed in a battle 
of the Crusades, had seen in a vision a star fall from 
heaven and alight upon his shield. And so it came 
that William and Mary Randolph were parents of 
seven noble sons, and from them descended the 
great men of colonial and Revolutionary Virginia — 
Thomas Jefferson, Richard Bland, Chief Justice 
Marshall, Robert E. Lee. In all these times, — 
prominent in council, in the college, in the halls of 
the Executive at Philadelphia, wearing the ermine, 
in the presidential chair, at the bar, in the pulpit of 
the Established Church, in the march, in the battle- 
field, — in every place where character, wisdom, and 
gallant bearing were needed, we find the descend- 
ants of William and Mary Randolph. 

These were the things of which I proudly 
thought (for these were my Colonel's own people) 
as I was slowly borne along to other localities, — 
many of them where the Randolphs had lived, — all 
of them linked together in one chain of historic in- 



Jordan's Point 139 

terest. The old Randolph mansion still existed in 
part, although its fine dome and pillared porticoes 
had fallen into decay. As I turned my reverent 
eyes to this Mecca, how would I have been cut to 
the heart had the future — the near future — been 
revealed to me. In one short year McClellan 
would, before proceeding to Harrison's Landing, 
rest after the disasters of the Seven Days' Battles 
under the roof-tree at Turkey Island, and his gun- 
boats would shell the old mansion and level it 
to the ground when it no longer sheltered their 
commander. 

A bend of the river now revealed Jordan's Point, 
where lived in colonial and Revolutionary days 
Richard Bland, the antiquary, statesman, and pa- 
triot, over whose grave the " martial ranks of corn " 
were now waving, through the stupidity of a recreant 
descendant. There was no house on Jordan's Point 
wherein the restless ghost of pretty Cicely Jordan 
might hold tryst with her many lovers, or where the 
wraith of the wise old antiquary might be discerned, 
bending over the books " which he studieth much." 
Pretty, rich, fascinating Cicely had in 1623 created 
so much disturbance in the colony by her utter in- 
ability to refuse a suitor, that she was the occasion 
of the famous law enacting punishment for women 
who promised marriage to more than one man at 
a time. Here at "Jordan's " had lived another Mary 
— Mary Bland — and thence Henry Lee had borne 
her to Westmoreland; and Henry and Mary Lee 
were the grandparents of Light Horse Harry, the 
father of our beloved Robert E. Lee. Here, too, 



140 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

at Jordan's, Nathaniel Bacon had encamped his fol- 
lowers, before leading them to avenge the outrages 
of the Indians. 

But as I mused of these things we were passing 
Berkley, where lived Giles Bland, who was executed 
for following Nathaniel Bacon ; afterward the home 
of the Harrison who signed the Declaration of In- 
dependence, the grandfather of " old Tippecanoe," 
President William Henry Harrison. If the veil 
of the future had been lifted, I should have seen 
General McClellan resting on the veranda here after 
his. retreat from Malvern Hills, the fields for miles 
around covered with his tents, the waters alive with 
war vessels and transports. 

Now, as I passed, the tired cattle, gathered under 
the shade of a great oak near the river, were chew- 
ing in contentment the midday cud ; and at an out- 
house within sight, a woman was setting out her 
newly washed milk pails to be sweetened by the sun 
after her noonday dinner. 

Next in interest came Westover — the fine house 
built by Colonel William Byrd, to whose father my 
children's ancestor had sold it. " The wise and 
prudent Theodorick Bland " was sleeping there, I 
knew, behind the tombstone which recorded his 
wisdom and prudence, and on which his own and 
his wife's arms were quartered, she having been 
the daughter of the Colonial Governor Richard 
Bennett. Near him in the graveyard "lay the mortal 
remains of Evelyn Byrd — whose restless spirit slept 
not ever, but might be seen on moonlight nights 
gliding among the roses. 



Historic Sites on the James 141 

Then " Pace's Pains," where lived the Christian 
Indian Chanco, who revealed the plan for the whole- 
sale massacre of the English in 1622, and who saved 
Jamestown by a message at dawn to the authorities 
of the town ; and Argall's Point, where the settlers 
were slain in the Indian massacre of 16 19; and 
Jamestown, where the good Mr. Hunt stretched a 
sail between two trees for an altar, consecrating the 
first church, floored by the leaves and flowers of the 
forest and roofed by the blue sky of heaven. And 
Argall's — once called Paspahegh — where Nathan- 
iel Bacon had halted his " tyred forlorne Body of 
men " to rest them before marching on to James- 
town. 

And so on and on — past Weyanoke and Bran- 
don with its art treasures — and Martin's Hundred, 
where the colonists were massacred in 1622. 

How peacefully the old river glided between its 
banks. Now and then voices reached us from the 
shores, or we paused at a busy landing to leave a 
mail-bag, or to deliver packages and barrels for the 
dwellers inland ; or the gang-plank would be lowered 
for some planter going home to his family, and soon 
pulled up, the great paddle-wheels churning the thick 
muddy water into a creamy froth, as we were off" 
again. 

As late evening drew on the river became dark, 
but less silent. We passed numbers of little skiffs 
with a single wing and a red eye astern, in which 
the fisherman was hurrying home, sometimes sing- 
ing as he sailed. Overhead the homing birds flapped 
their heavy wings. 






142 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

A sense of peace and calm stole over me. War ? 
Oh, surely, surely not ! Something would prevent 
it. Surely, blood would not be shed because of those 
insulting words in the Senate and House. God was 
our Father — the Father of all. Were we not chil- 
dren of His covenant — His blessing promised to 
the third and fourth generation ? Was not the blood 
of the saints in our veins ? 

If the veil could have been lifted, if one had said, 
" Behold, I shew you a vision — you may yet avert 
its fulfilment," how merciful would that have been ! 
Could this have been vouchsafed me, I might have 
had unrolled before me, that fourteenth day of June, 
— just three years away, — when the man who was 
now drilling a small company of volunteers in Galena 
would be in these waters, crossing the James at the 
head of 115,000 men, sweeping for two days and 
nights over three lines of pontoons, marching horse, 
foot, artillery, and train, straight to the spot whence 
I had come in the morning of this day, going on 
their victorious way to lay siege to Richmond and 
Petersburg, and destined to overwhelm us in the 
end. 

And now it was quite dark on the river. Phantom 
ships flashed now and then out of the darkness, and 
were swallowed up again. Was that the Goodspeed, 
or the Susan Constant, or perhaps the Discovery ? 
Hark ! was that a war-whoop ? 

Only the warning whistle of our own boat, as I 
discovered upon awaking. Before me stood the 
dignified old colored woman who held the proud 
position of stewardess of our boat, and beside her a 



Patriotic Women at Norfolk 143 

young assistant who gently removed and began to 
fold the shawl I had tucked around my knees. 

" Honey," said the old dame, " ain't you 'fraid 
you'll ketch cole out here so late ? — it's time for 
you to go to bed. The cap'n sent me for you. 
Yo' state-room is nice an' cool now. The pote- 
hole been open ever since sundown." 

I was awake and dressed by sunrise next day, our 
boat having arrived after midnight at the wharf in 
Norfolk — and in due time the clanking of spurs an- 
nounced my Colonel ! Very fine did he look in his 
uniform, with my eagles bristling on each shoulder. 

There was to be a dress-parade that day, in the 
afternoon, and he desired me to join the ladies of 
the hotel in the drawing-room after breakfast and 
present with his compliments an invitation to the 
parade. 

" Do you know when and where I can see the 
ladies of this hotel ? " I asked my smiling colored 
chambermaid. 

" Lor', lady, dey ain't fur off," she said. " Dey 
mostly sets all day in de shady side of de po'ch 
pickin' lint. Dey certainly makes a heap o' muss. 
Nobody can't say nuthin' to 'em ; cause deyse guests 
of de hotel. An' 'tain't one bit o' use. Nobody 
gwine to git hurt, an' if dey does, what's de use of 
all dat sticky cotton ? " 

I found a number of ladies engaged in the 
veranda, but not as she had suggested. They 
were very glad to meet me, and accepted my invita- 
tion. They were making square bags out of bunting 
for cartridges. A gentle, blue-eyed woman joined us 



144 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

and asked for work. But when it was explained to 
her, she colored, her lips quivered. " Oh, I can't ! 
I can't ! " she begged. " Let me roll bandages for 
wounds ! I can't help with the cartridges ! You see, 
all my people live in Pennsylvania. My husband 
is going to fight them, I know; but don't ask me 
to make the cartridges." 

My Colonel came himself with his staff in the 
afternoon to escort us to his headquarters at the 
Marine Hospital. On our way we passed an aban- 
doned house, on the walls of which grew the most 
glorious specimen of fuchsia I ever beheld. I had 
always heard that this was a marine plant, and I 
now saw to what perfection it could be brought in 
the sea air. It reached to the second story and was 
covered with a shower of great scarlet and blue bells. 
" Dixie colors," said one of the ladies. We gathered 
gorgeous bunches and fastened them in our white 
dresses. 

The parade ground was a lovely stretch of green, 
and beyond, the blue waters of the sea sparkled in 
the afternoon sun, each little wave gemmed with a 
diamond and set in sapphire. 

A siege gun had just been mounted, and there 
was to be practice-firing at a buoy for a mark. 

I was standing with my group of friends when a 
handsome officer approached with a military salute 
and invited me to honor his company by firing their 
first gun. I went forward with him, and he put the 
lanyard in my hands. 

" Wait for the word of command, Madam," he 
said. 



The Third Virginia's First Gun 145 

" And then what ? " I inquired. 

" Oh, then pull steadily," and with that he stepped 
back. 

" Make ready ! Fire ! " 

I pulled the lanyard — but I was unprepared for 
the result. The great gun backed, leaped in the air 
and sent a mighty roar across the waters, — the first 
cannon fired by the Third Virginia Volunteers. I re- 
ceived the congratulations and thanks of the Captain, 
and returned to my place — to be told that my eyes 
were congested by the concussion, and that I must 
return home and bathe and bandage them at once. 
Evidently I was not fit for artillery service. 



CHAPTER XI 



LIFE AT THE OAKS 



THE month of July, 1861, found me with my 
little boys at " The Oaks " — the residence 
of Dr. Izard Bacon Rice, in Charlotte 
County, seventy miles from Richmond, and miles 
away from the nearest railroad depot. There I 
might have enjoyed a peaceful summer with my kind 
host — a fine type of a Christian gentleman, some- 
time an Old-Line Whig and fierce Union man, now 
an ardent advocate of states' rights, and a stanch 
supporter of the New Confederacy. I might — as I 
had often done before — have revelled in the fine 
trees; the broad acres of tobacco in their summer 
prime, when the noble plant was proudly flinging out 
its banners before its fall; the old garden with its 
box-edged crescents, stars, and circles, — I might 
have dreamed away the summer in perfect content- 
ment but for General Beauregard. Distant as was 
his army, a message from his guns reached my 
summer retreat more than a hundred miles away. 

Dr. Rice lived in a large, old-fashioned house, on 
a plantation of two thousand acres or more. An oak 
grove, alive with chattering squirrels which had been 
held sacred for two generations, surrounded the house. 
The squirrels held conventions in the trees, and 

146 



A Virginia Tobacco Plantation 147 

doubtless expressed their opinions of the family be- 
low, whom they had good reason to consider inferior 
beings, inasmuch as they were slow-motioned, heavy 
creatures, utterly destitute of grace and agility, and 
with small appreciation of hickory-nuts. 

The Doctor cultivated tobacco, and when I ar- 
rived the fields stretched as far as the eye could 
reach, now a vast level sea of green, now covering 
the low, gently rounded, undulating hills as they 
sloped down to the Staunton River. There was 
never a season when these fields were not alive with 
laborers of every age ; for the regal plant so beloved 
of men — and ranking with opium and hemp as a 
solace for the ills of mankind — has enemies from 
the hour it peeps from the nursery of the hot bed. 
It can never be forgotten a moment. Children can 
hunt the fly which seeks to line the leaf with eggs, 
or destroy the unhatched eggs, or aid the great army 
which must turn out in haste when the ravenous 
worm is born. The earth must be turned frequently 
at the roots, the flower buds pinched off, the shoots 
or "suckers " removed. The Doctor's tobacco field 
was an enlivening spectacle, and very picturesque 
did the ebony faces of the little workers look, 
among the broad leaves. No lady's garden was 
ever kept so clean, so free from sticks, errant bits 
of paper, or debris of any kind. 

I do not claim that Dr. Rice (my uncle) was a 
typical planter — as far as the government of his 
slaves was concerned. He had inherited liberal 
ideas with these inherited slaves. His grandfather, 
David Rice, had written the first published protest 



148 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

in this country against slavery as " inconsistent with 
religion and policy." His father had ruled a planta- 
tion where severe punishment was unknown, where 
the cheerful slaves rarely needed it. The old gentle- 
man was considered eccentric — and eccentric it 
surely was for a master to punish a fault by com- 
manding the culprit to stand in his presence while 
he recited a long passage from Homer or Virgil ! 
The punishment was effective. For fear of it, the 
fault was rarely repeated. 

It was my uncle's custom to assemble every slave 
on his plantation on Sunday morning, and to speak 
a few words to each one, commending the women if 
their families appeared in clean, well-kept garments, 
rewarding with a pair of shoes the urchins reported 
by " Uncle Moses " as having been orderly and 
useful, exchanging a pleasant jest here and there. 

He presented a tight, comfortable house to every 
newly married pair, with timber for the bridegroom 
to add to it, or to enclose the piece of land for a 
garden or a poultry yard which went with it. Every 
mother at the birth of a child was presented with a 
pig. The plantation, which was large and fruitful, 
and from which nothing but tobacco and wheat was 
ever sold, yielded vegetables, poultry, mutton, beef, 
bacon in lavish abundance, while the orchards and 
vines were equally productive. 

Some hundreds of the negroes of the neighbor- 
hood were members of the Presbyterian church of 
the whites. In the old church books may be seen 
to-day records of their marriages and funerals, and 
how (for example) " Lovelace Brown was brought 



Presbyterian Negroes — A Family Coach 149 

before the session for hog-stealing and suspended 
for one month." But there were better records than 
this. These Presbyterian negroes were at one time 
led by an eminent patriarch, Uncle Abel, who de- 
serves more than a passing notice. He had been 
taught to read and had been well drilled in the 
Shorter Catechism. But his marriage ceremonies 
were always read from the Episcopal Prayer-book, 
every word of which he held sacred, not to be 
changed or omitted to suit any modern heresy. 
" I M, take thee N," was the formula for Jack 
or Peter, Dilsey or Dicey — and "with this ring 
I thee wed" must be pronounced with solemnity, 
ring or no ring, the latter being not at all essential. 

My uncle's old family coach, punctual to the 
minute, swept around the circle on the lawn every 
Sunday morning, with Uncle Peter proudly guiding 
the horses from his high perch. And high-swung 
was the coach, to be ascended (as we ascended our 
four-poster beds) by three carpeted steps, — in 
the case of the carriage, folding steps, which were 
tucked inside after we had disposed of ourselves, 
with our ample hoops. There was plenty of room 
inside. Pockets lined the doors, and these were 
filled by my aunt with beaten biscuit and sugar- 
cakes " for the little darkies on the road." 

Arriving at the church, the gentlemen from the 
adjacent plantations, who had been settling the 
affairs of the nation under the trees, came forward 
to hand us from our carriage, after the manner of 
old-time cavaliers and sedan-chairs ; and my aunt 
and I would be very gracious, devoutly hoping in 



150 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

our hearts that my uncle and his sons would not 
forget a reciprocal courtesy when Mrs. Winston 
Henry, Mrs. Paul Carrington, and Mrs. Sarah 
Carrington should arrive. 

The women all seated themselves on the right 
side of the church, while the men, during the 
singing of a preliminary hymn, came in like a 
processional and took the left as their portion, 
— all of which (except the advertisements on the 
church doors) was conducted precisely according to 
the customs of Revolutionary times, when Patrick 
Henry and John Randolph, now sleeping a few 
miles away, were themselves (we trust) church- 
goers. 

Church dinners at home were simple, but abun- 
dant, — so that if three or four carriages should 
arrive from distant plantations in the neighborhood, 
there could be welcome and refreshment for all, 
but on the great days when my uncle and aunt re- 
ceived the neighborhood, when the Carringtons and 
Patrick Henry's sons, John and Winston, came 
with their families to spend the day, the dinner was 
something to be remembered. Perhaps a descrip- 
tion verbatim from an old family servant will be 
better than anything I can furnish from memory. 

" Yes, sir ! We had fine dinners in them days. 
The butter was moulded like a temple with pillars, 
and a rose stuck in the top. There was a wreath 
of roses roun' all the dessert dishes. Viney biled 
the ham in cider. We had roas' pig, biled turkey, 
chickens fried an' briled, spring lam', ducks an' green 
goslin'. An' every cut-glass dish in the house was 



Dinner Parties at the Oaks 151 

full of preserves, an' the great bowl full of ice-cream, 
an' floatin' island, an' tipsy-cake, an' cheese-cakes, 
an' green sweetmeats, an' citron. John was both- 
ered where to set all the dishes." 

Our guests would remain late, that they might 
have the cool evening hours for their long drives. 
Mr. John Henry, with his family of gifted sons and 
beautiful daughters, lived at Red Hill, the home of 
his father, the great orator and patriot, under the 
trees his father had planted and near the grave where 
he sleeps. Mr. Winston Henry had also an inter- 
esting family, and lived in an old colonial house not 
far away, surrounded by grounds filled in summer 
with pomegranates and gardenias, and with lemon 
and orange trees in tubs, also great trees of helio- 
trope, and vines of jessamine — a paradise of beauty 
and sweetness. Rosalie Henry would bring her 
guitar to my uncle's and sing for us by the hour. 
She was so loved, so cherished by her parents, that 
they gave her a bedroom over their own, to which 
she ascended by a stairway from their own apartment 
— all that they might be near her. But one morn- 
ing early, pretty Rosalie changed gowns with her 
maid, put a pail on her head, and slipped past her 
trusting, adoring parents to join her lover in the 
jessamine bower, and in a bridal robe of linsey-wool- 
sey was married at the next town ! Then it was 
that my good uncle had his opportunity. The sub- 
lime teaching of forgiveness was respected from his 
kindly lips. 

In the early summer of '61 Virginia planters 
were not all a" accord on political questions ; and 



152 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

like Agag, it behooved us to " walk delicately " in 
conversation. One thing they would not endure. 
Politics were to be kept out of the pulpit. Never 
had the pastor such attentive congregations ; they 
were watching him, keenly alive to the remotest hint 
or allusion to the war. His business was with the 
spiritual kingdom of God. He must not interfere 
with Caesar's. He found it expedient to omit for the 
present the warlike aspirations of David, in which 
he beseeches the Lord's attention to his enemies, 
and, among other things calculated to comfort and 
soothe his pious feelings, prays that they may be as 
" stubble before the wind," as " wood before fire," 
and be " rooted forever out of the land of the 
living. 

" Enemies " were not to be alluded to in the 
pulpit. Nor, indeed, not yet in private ! It was 
proper and in good taste to speak of them as 
" Federals " ; but at no very distant day these 
same polite gentlemen called them " enemies " with 
a will ; when scornfully disposed, they were " Yan- 
kees," and when they wished to be positively insult- 
ing, " Yanks." 

Across the river from the Oaks was " Mildendo," 
the home of the Carrington family. From this 
home went every man capable of bearing arms — 
Fontaine, the fine young surgeon so well placed in 
the United States Navy, and his brother, the grave 
head of the house upon whom everybody depended ; 
and one, a cousin, leaving his bride at the altar. 
Patrick Henry's grandsons all enlisted. Mr. Charles 
Bruce left his baronial castle on Staunton Hill near 



Virginia Patriots Young and Old 153 

the Oaks, equipped the " Staunton Hill Artillery 
Company" at his own expense, placed himself at 
its head and shared all its hardships. His brother, 
Mr. James Bruce, cut up his rich carpets and curtains 
for the soldiers' blankets. These were but a few of 
the gallant neighbors of my uncle, who exchanged 
homes of luxury for the hardships of war — all of 
whom probably shared General Lee's keen sorrow 
at the necessity forced upon Virginia to withdraw 
her allegiance from the Union. 

My uncle had a son already in the cavalry ser- 
vice — and another, Henry, a fine young fellow of 
sixteen, was at Hampden-Sidney College, Virginia. 
Presently a letter from the latter filled the family at 
the Oaks with — yes, anxiety — but at the same 
time a proud sense of how old Revolutionary 
"blood will tell." Henry was on the march ! At 
the first tocsin of war the students of Hampden- 
Sidney had rushed to arms — most of them under 
age ; and when their president, the venerable Rev. 
John Atkinson, found they would go, he placed 
himself at their head as their captain, despite his 
threescore years and physical infirmities. Military 
tactics had not been included in his theological train- 
ing. Although he may not have been so dull but 
he could learn, nor yet so old but he might learn, 
certain it is he never did learn to drill his " Hamp- 
den-Sidney Boys." His orders of movement were 
given by pointing the way he wished his company 
to advance. 

Notwithstanding the shortcomings of their cap- 
tain, these boys, fresh from their college halls, 



154 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

were often publicly complimented by their colonel, 
as they headed the column in the long days' 
marches over the mountains of Virginia, — marches 
in which the old captain would fall asleep, and 
would be supported on either side. 

When they were called to Richmond their patri- 
otic ardor received a shock. Governor Letcher 
seriously took under consideration the propriety of 
sending them back to school on account of their 
youth. A committee from the company waited 
upon him, and he was finally prevailed upon to 
allow them to go to the front. 

They soon learned what war was — these beard- 
less college boys, and bore themselves gallantly in 
several engagements. But their military career was 
brief. McClellan flanked their position at Rich 
Mountain, July 12, 1861, and cut off every avenue 
of retreat. The whole command, after a sharp en- 
gagement, were made prisoners of war. For the 
time being the boys felt their military career to have 
been an inglorious failure. 

While they were thus disappointed and depressed, 
a Federal officer, presumably a lieutenant, visited 
them in the prison camp. He said he had heard so 
much of the boy soldiers led by their college presi- 
dent that he wished to make their acquaintance. 

The boys were not by way of being over anxious 
to receive visits from their victors. The officer 
asked, " Why in the world are you here ? " 

" We are here to fight! " said they. "What do 
you suppose we came for ? " 

" Well, boys," said the officer, pleasantly, " make 



The Hampden-Sidney Boys 155 

yourselves easy. I'll send you home to your mothers 
in a few days." 

The officer was General McClellan ! 

The company was paroled, but was not exchanged 
for a year. This prolonged parole, they always 
thought, was due to General McClellan's influence 
in order to give them a whole year at college. 

They all returned to the army after their ex- 
change, but never as the " Hampden-Sidney Boys." 
They never forgot the little interview with the Gen- 
eral. He won all their hearts. 

Our own Hampden-Sidney boy, Henry Rice, soon 
afterward wrote from a hospital in Richmond that 
he was ill with fever. My uncle ordered him home, 
and I took the great family coach and Uncle Peter 
and went to the depot, fourteen miles away, to fetch 
him. He looked so long, that I doubted whether 
I could bestow him in the carriage ; and as he was 
too good a soldier for me to suggest that he be 
" doubled up," I entered the carriage first, had his 
head and shoulders placed in my lap, then closed 
the door and swung his long legs out of the window ! 

My uncle was a fine specimen of a Christian 
gentleman — always courteous, always serene. I 
delighted in following him around the plantation on 
horseback. When he winnowed his wheat, Uncle 
Moses, standing like an emperor amid the sheaves, 
filled the hearts of my little boys with ecstasy by 
allowing them to ride the horses that turned the 
great wheel. Finally the wheat was packed in bags, 
and we stood on the bank of the river to see it piled 
into flat-bottomed boats on the way to market. 



156 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

The next morning Moses appeared at the dining 
room door while we were at breakfast. 

" Good morning, Moses," said my uncle. " I 
thought you were going with the wheat." 

" Dar ain't no wheat," said the old man. " Hit's 
all at de bottom of the river." 

" How did that happen ? " 

" We jest natchelly run agin a snag ; when de 
boat turn over, hit pulled all de others down. 'Cose 
you know, Marster, dey was tied together, an' boat 
ain' got no eyes to see snags." 

"Well — get out your chains and grappling hooks, 
Moses, and save all you can. It will do to feed the 
chickens." 

" Why, Uncle ! " I exclaimed, " how calmly you 
take it." 

" Certainly," said he ; " because I've lost my crop 
is that any reason I should lose my temper? Here, 
Pizarro, have our horses saddled. We'll go down 
to the river and encourage Moses to resurrect his 
wheat." (Pizarro was John's son. John had stud- 
ied with the boys of the family, and knew some 
history and Latin. One of the women bore the 
classic name of " Lethe " ; others were " Chloe " 
and " Daphne "; another name, frequently repeated, 
was " Dicey " — a survival, according to Mr. Andrew 
Lang, of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, which 
was found among the Indians and the Virginia 
negroes of colonial times. Orpheus seems to have 
perished from their traditions, but Dicey is still a 
favorite name. The descendants of Lethe and 
Pizarro still live at the Oaks. A late achievement 



A Negro Funeral 157 

shows their progress under new conditions, the baptis- 
mal records having been enriched with " Hazel-Kirke- 
Florida-Bell-Armazinda-Hodge," more imposing if 
less suggestive than the " Homicide" and " Neural- 
gia" of a neighboring county.) 

This precise type of a Virginia plantation will 
never appear again, I imagine. I wish I could de- 
scribe a plantation wedding as I saw it that summer. 
But a funeral of one of the old servants was pecul- 
iarly interesting to me. "Aunt Matilda" had been 
much loved, and when she found herself dying, she 
had requested that the mistress and little children 
should attend her funeral. " I ain' been much to 
church," she urged," I couldn't leave my babies. I 
ain' had dat shoutin' an' hollerin' religion, but I gwine 
to heaven jes' de same " — a fact of which nobody who 
knew Aunt Matilda could have the smallest doubt. 

We had a long, warm walk behind hundreds of 
negroes, following the rude coffin in slow procession 
through the woods, singing antiphonally as they 
went one of those strange, weird hymns not to be 
caught by any Anglo-Saxon voice. 

It was a beautiful and touching scene, and at the 
grave I longed for an artist (we had no kodaks 
then) to perpetuate the picture. The level rays of 
the sun were filtered through the green leaves of 
the forest, and fell gently on the dusky, pathetic 
faces, and on the simple coffin surrounded by orphan 
children and relatives, very dignified and quiet in 
their grief. 

The spiritual patriarch of the plantation presided. 
Old Uncle Abel said : — 



158 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" I ain' gwine keep you all long. 'Tain' no use. 
We can't do nothin' for Sis' Tildy. All is done fer 
her, an' she done preach her own fune'al sermon. 
Her name was on dis church book here, but dat 
warn' nothin', 'dout 'twas on de Lamb book too ! 

" Now whiles dey fillin' up her grave I'd like you 
all to sing a hymn Sis' Tildy uster love, but you 
all know I bline in one eye, an' de sweat done got 
in de other ; so's I can't see to line it out, an' I 
dunno as any o' you all ken do it" — and the first 
thing I knew, the old man had passed his well-worn 
book to me, and there I stood, at the foot of the 
grave, " lining out" : — 

" Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep 

From which none ever wakes to weep," — 

words of immortal comfort to the great throng of 
negro mourners who caught it up, line after line, on 
an air of their own, full of tears and tenderness, — a 
strange, weird tune no white person's voice could 
ever follow. 

Among such scenes I passed the month of June 
and the early part of July, and then General Beau- 
regard reminded us that we were at war, and had no 
right to make ourselves comfortable. 

Dr. Rice, on the afternoon of the 21st, had be- 
taken himself to his accustomed place under the 
trees, to escape the flies, — the pest of Southern 
households in summer, — and had lain down on the 
grass for his afternoon nap. He suddenly called 
out excitedly : " There's a battle going on — a fierce 
battle — I can hear the cannonading distinctly. 



Wireless Telegraphy 159 

Here — lie down — you can hear it!" "Oh, no, 
no, I can't ! " I gasped. " It may be at Norfolk." 

Like Jessie, who had heard the pibroch at the 
siege of Lucknow, he had heard, with his ear to the 
ground, the firing at Manassas. The battle of Bull 
Run was at its height. We found it difficult to 
understand that he couldhavo. heard cannonading one 
hundred and fifty miles away. We had not then 
spoken across the ocean and been answered. 



CHAPTER XII 

BULL RUN AND FAIR OAKS 

WE had small faith in my uncle's wireless 
telegraphy, but in a short time we had 
confirmation of his news. 

Then came the details of the first great battle of 
the war. " Glorious news ! " everybody said. A 
glorious triumph for the South, — an utter rout of 
the enemy ; but my heart sank within me at the tale 
of blood. How about those boys I had seen march 
away ? What would life hold for some of the wives 
and mothers and sweethearts at home? 

What was glory to the gallant Colonel Bartow, 
lying in state at the capitol in Richmond ? Could 
glory dry his widow's tears or console his aged 
mother? We gathered details of the last moments 
of the men who fell. It was all so strange ! Could it 
be true that these things had actually happened in 
Virginia ? 

Our men, when the bodies were brought home, 
could tell many stories of officers — but how about 
the boys in the ranks ? Bartow had been unhorsed 
in the fight, and his aide, young Lamar, dashed across 
the field amid a hail of bullets to procure another 
mount for his Colonel. Suddenly Lamar was seen 
to fall with his horse. Extricating himself, and per- 

160 



Gallantry of Colonel Lamar 161 

ceiving that his horse was shot, he started to proceed 
on foot ; the wounded animal tried to rise and fol- 
low. Our men saw Lamar turn in that deadly fire, 
stoop down, and pat the poor horse on the neck. 
Another volley of bullets ended the noble animal's 
life, and Lamar returned just in time to bear Bar- 
tow's body from the field. 

I grew so restless and unhappy that I turned my 
face homeward to Petersburg. My resolution was 
taken. I steadily withstood all the entreaties of my 
friends, and determined to follow my husband's regi- 
ment through the war. I did not ask his permission. 
I would give no trouble. I should be only a help 
to his sick men and his wounded. I busied myself 
in preparing a camp equipage — a field-stove with a 
rotary chimney, ticks for bedding, to be filled with 
straw or hay or leaves as the case might be, a camp 
chest of tin utensils, strong blankets, etc. A tent 
could always be had from Major Shepard, our 
quartermaster. News soon came that the Third Vir- 
ginia had been ordered to Smithfield. McClellan 
was looking toward the Peninsula, and Major-Gen- 
eral Joseph E. Johnston was keeping an eye on 
McClellan. 

When I set forth on what my father termed my 
"wild-goose chase," I found the country literally 
alive with troops. The train on which I travelled 
was switched off again and again to allow them to 
pass. My little boys had the time of their lives, 
cheering the soldiers and picnicking at short inter- 
vals all day. 

But Smithfield would not hear of the camp outfit. 



1 62 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

The great box was trundled away to the warehouse, 
and I was hospitably taken into one of the homes 
of the little town. 

After a while things looked as if I would probably 
stay in Smithfield the rest of my natural life. So I 
rented a small furnished house, bought a cow, opened 
an account with Mr. Britt, the grocer, also with a 
fisherman who went out every night on Pagan Creek 
with a light in his boat, drew his blanket around him 
and dozed, while the fat little mullets jumped in for 
my breakfast. Until the mullet species becomes 
extinct nobody need starve in Smithfield. 

The Third Virginia and its Colonel were giving 
themselves up to murmurs and discontent at being 
" buried in Smithfield " while gallant fighting was 
going on elsewhere, meanwhile studying Hardee and 
Jomini with all their might. Not one of the officers 
or men had ever before seen military service. The 
daily drill was the only excitement. 

Here they were, fastened hand and foot, strong, 
ardent fellows, while so much was going on elsewhere, 
— Stonewall Jackson marching on his career of 
glory, Beauregard ordered to active service in the 
West, Fort Henry and Fort Donelson surrendered 
to the enemy, our army falling back from Manassas, 
the mighty Army of the Potomac divided and scat- 
tered. Then came news that General Lee, whose 
first appointment was from Virginia, was to have 
command of all the armies of the Confederacy. 

Major-General Pemberton (the gallant hero who 
held Vicksburg against such odds) was then our com- 
manding officer at Smithfield. His wife and her sister, 



The Third Virginia at Smithfield 163 

Miss Imogene Thompson, were our grand dames, 
— deserving the admiration we accorded them. The 
beauty of the town was Mary Garnett ; the spirited 
belle who wore brass buttons and a military cap, 
Miss Riddick. Despite all the discouraging news, 
these young people mightily cheered the spirits of 
the officers and helped them to bear inglorious inac- 
tion with becoming fortitude. 

General Pemberton varied our own routine some- 
what by giving an occasional dinner party. Once 
he invited us to an early morning drive to Cooper's 
Point, opposite Newport News, where the war- 
ships Congress and Cumberland were anchored, with 
whose guns (so soon to be silenced by the iron-clad 
Merrimac) we were already familiar. We were a 
merry party, assembled in open wagons on a frosty 
morning, and we enjoyed the drive with fleet horses 
through the keen air. Miss Imogene Thompson's 
lover was a prisoner of war on board one of the 
ships. " Look out for the ball and chain, Imogene ! " 
said the General, as we arrived in sight of the ships. 
Through a glass we could see the brave fellows, so 
soon to go down with their colors flying before the 
relentless Merrimac, but not with pretty Imogene's 
lover, who lived to make her happy after the cruel 
war was over. 

Another event of personal interest was the pres- 
entation to the Colonel by the ladies of Peters- 
burg of a blue silken state flag. The party came 
down the river in a steamboat, and we stood on 
the river bank in a stiff breeze while the presen- 
tation speech covered the ground of all the possibili- 



164 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

ties in store for the Colonel, ending with, " And, sir, 
if you should fall," and promises of tears and true 
faithful hearts to love and honor him forever. In 
his answer of thanks he expressed all the gratitude 
and chivalry of his heart, but craved sympathy for 
his present state of enforced idleness — " for the 
dearest sacrifice a man can make for his country is 
his ambition." 

Soon afterwards he was called to Richmond to 
take his seat in Congress — and as there was noth- 
ing to keep him with the regiment, he left it with 
his Lieutenant-Colonel. 

But I did not return with him. I had enlisted 
for the war ! For some reason, which was not ex- 
plained at the time, he suddenly returned, and my 
only knowledge of his coming was a peremptory 
official order to change my base — to leave Smith- 
field next morning at daybreak ! The orderly who 
brought it stood before me as I read, and looked 
intensely surprised when I said : " Tell the Colonel 
it is impossible ! I can't get ready by to-morrow 
morning to leave." 

" Madam," said the man, gravely, " it is none of 
my business, but when Colonel Pryor gives an order, 
it is best to be a strict constructionist." 

Mr. Britt proved a tower of strength. He closed 
his store and brought all his force to help me. My 
cow was presented with my compliments to my 
neighbor, Mrs. Smith, under promise of secrecy (for 
I knew I must not alarm the town by my precipi- 
tate departure), my camp equipage brought from the 
warehouse, my belongings all packed. As the sun 



An Unexpected Change of Base 165 

rose next morning, I greeted him from my seat on 
a trunk in an open wagon on my way to Zuni, the 
railway station fifteen miles away. I never saw a 
lovelier morning. The cattle were all afield for their 
early breakfast of dewy grass, a thin line of smoke was 
ascending from the cottages on the wayside. The 
mother could be seen within, preparing breakfast for 
the children, who stood in the door to gaze at us 
as we passed. The father was possibly away in the 
army, although the times were not yet so stern that 
every man became a conscript. These humbler 
folk who lived close to the highway — what suffer- 
ings were in store for them from the pillage of the 
common soldier ! What terror and dismay for the 
dwellers in the broad-porticoed, many-chambered 
mansions beyond the long avenues of approach in 
the distance ! I could but think of these things 
when I heard the boom of guns on the warships 
at Newport News, sounds to which my ears had 
grown accustomed, but which now took on, some- 
how, a new meaning. 

I soon learned that the Third Virginia Regiment 
moved the day after I received my own marching 
orders. 

McClellan had landed about one hundred thousand 
efficient troops on the Peninsula for the movement 
upon Richmond. General Joseph E. Johnston's 
line of about fifty-three thousand men extended 
across the narrow neck of land between the York 
and the James. They gave McClellan battle May 5 
at Williamsburg, captured four hundred unwounded 
prisoners, ten colors, and twelve field-pieces, slept on 



1 66 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

the jield of battle, and marched off the next morn- 
ing at their leisure and convenience. After this my 
Colonel was brevetted Brigadier-General. 

The news of his probable promotion reached me 
at the Exchange Hotel in Richmond, whither I had 
gone that I might be near headquarters, and thus 
learn the earliest tidings from the Peninsula. There 
the Colonel joined me for one day. We read with 
keen interest the announcement in the papers that 
his name had been sent in by the president for 
promotion. Mrs. Davis held a reception at the 
Spotswood Hotel on the evening following this 
announcement, and we availed ourselves of the op- 
portunity to make our respects to her. 

A crowd gathered before the Exchange to con- 
gratulate my husband, and learning that he had 
gone to the Spotswood, repaired thither, and with 
many shouts and cheers called him out for a speech. 
This was very embarrassing, and he fled to a corner 
of the drawing-room and hid behind a screen of 
plants. I was standing near the president, trying 
to hold his attention by remarks on the weather and 
kindred subjects of a thrilling nature, when a voice 
from the street called out : " Pryor ! General Pryor ! " 
I could endure the suspense no longer, and asked 
tremblingly, " Is this true, Mr. President?" Mr. 
Davis looked at me with a benevolent smile and 
said, " I have no reason, Madam, to doubt it, ex- 
cept that I saw it this morning in the papers," and 
Mrs. Davis at once summoned the bashful Colonel: 
" What are you doing lying there perdu behind the 
geraniums ? Come out and take your honors." 



Battle of Fair Oaks, or Seven Pines 167 

The next day my bristling eagles, which had faith- 
fully held guard on the Colonel's uniform, retired 
before the risen stars of the Brigadier-General. 

On May 31 "Old Joe" and "Little Mac," as 
they were affectionately called by their respective 
commands, again confronted each other, and fought 
the great two days' battle of Fair Oaks, or Seven 
Pines. 

This battle was said to have been one of the 
closest, most hotly contested, and bloody of the 
war. A few miles from Petersburg the cannonad- 
ing could be distinctly heard, and ten or twelve of 
the Federal observation balloons could be seen in 
the air. 

McClellan had an army of one hundred thousand ; 
Johnston had sixty-three thousand. The afternoon 
and night before a terrible storm had raged, " sheets 
of fire, lightning, sharp and dreadful thunderclaps, 
were fit precursors of the strife waged by the artillery 
of man. 

" All night long Zeus, the lord of counsel, devised 
them ill with terrible thunderings. Then pale fear 
gat hold upon them." * 

The roads were deep with mud. With many dis- 
advantages Johnston attacked, with vigor, the corps 
of Keyes and Heintzelman, drove them back, and 
came near inflicting upon them a crushing defeat. 
Near the end of the fight General Johnston was 
wounded and borne from the field, smiling and say- 
ing, " I'm not sure I am much hurt, but I fear that 
bit of shell may have injured my spine." 

1 Rhodes's " History of the United States." 



i68 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

He had already been wounded by a musket-ball, 
his enthusiasm having carried him nearer to the 
fight than a commanding officer has any right to be. 

A little later he had observed one of his colonels 
trying to dodge the shell. 

"Colonel," he said, "there is no use dodging! 
When you hear them, they have passed." 

Just then he fell unconscious into the arms of one 
of his couriers. A shell had exploded, striking him 
on the breast. The moment he regained conscious- 
ness his unwounded hand sought his sword and 
pistols. They were gone ! 

" I would not lose my sword for ten thousand 
dollars," he exclaimed. " My father wore it in the 
war of the Revolution." The courier — Drury L. 
Armstead — dashed back through the storm of artil- 
lery, found both sword and pistols, brought them 
safely, and received one of the pistols as a token of 
the gratitude of his chief. ' 

In General George E. Pickett's report of this 
hard-won battle he says, " Pryor and Wilcox were 
on my right ; our men moved beautifully and carried 
everything before them." 

General Johnston was succeeded by General Lee. 
I did not know for a long time (for, so absorbing 
were the events that rapidly followed, the honors 
of battle were forgotten) that, after the capture at 
Fair Oaks of the Federal brigade under General 
Casey, " General Roger A. Pryor went around 
among the wounded, giving them whiskey and water, 
and told them it was a repayment of the kindness 

1 '• Memoirs of J. E. Johnston," by General Bradley Johnson, p. 72. 



Tribute to General McClellan 169 

with which the wounded Confederate prisoners were 
treated at c Williamsburg,' " * — an incident which I 
hope I may be pardoned for relating, since the gen- 
erous tribute affords an example of the spirit of that 
true Christian gentleman, General McClellan. 

" He never struck a foul blow and never tolerated 
mean men or mean methods about him. His was 
a high ideal of war, a high sense of chivalry which is 
the duty of fighting the belligerent and sparing the 
weak. His conduct was keyed to the highest point 
of honor and generosity in war." When his march 
led him to the " White House," whence General 
Washington took his bride, Martha Custis, he 
ordered a guard to be placed around it ; and finding 
himself alone in St. Peter's Church, where Washing- 
ton was married, he records in his diary, " I could 
not help kneeling at the chancel and praying that I 
might save my country as truly as he did." This 
was just before the battle at Seven Pines, in which 
there were probably arrayed against him the near 
kindred of Martha Washington. What would they 
have thought of the invading general's prayer to 
"save the country"? And his country! And at 
the altar he held in especial homage because of their 
grandsire ! 

Like McClellan, Johnston had not the good 
fortune to be in accord with his Executive. " Not 
only," said an Old Virginian to him as he lay suffer- 
ing from his severe wounds, " not only do we de- 
plore this cruel affliction upon you, General, but we 
feel it to be a national calamity." 

1 "McClellarTs Own Story," p. 338. 



170 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" No, sir," said Johnston, fiercely, rising suddenly 
upon his unbroken elbow. " The shot that struck 
me down was the best ever fired for the Southern 
Confederacy, for I possessed in no degree the con- 
fidence of this government, and now a man who 
does enjoy it will succeed me, and be able to accom- 
plish what I never could." 

The man who succeeded him, General Lee, wrote 
to the Secretary of War : " If General Johnston was 
not a soldier, America never produced one. If he 
was not competent to command the army, the Con- 
federacy had no one who was competent." But 
even Lee could not control the opinions of the 
Executive. General Johnston was relieved from his 
command in 1864. General McClellan's treatment, 
as the world knows, was hardly less severe and quite 
as undeserved. 

Richmond heard the guns of this bloody battle. 
As soon as the storm allowed them, crowds of 
anxious listeners repaired to the hills, from which 
the cannonading and rattle of musketry could be 
distinctly heard. The city waked up to a keen 
realization of the horrors of war. All the next day 
ambulances brought in the wounded — and open 
wagons were laden with the dead. Six thousand 
one hundred and thirty-four Confederate soldiers 
had been killed; the Federal loss was five thousand 
and thirty-one, — eleven thousand one hundred and 
sixty-five brave men gone from the country that 
gave them birth ! 

The streets of Richmond presented a strange 
scene — ambulances of wounded and dying men 



Richmond after the Battle of Seven Pines 171 

passed companies arriving on their way to the front, 
and each cheered the other. Batteries of artillery 
thundered through the streets ; messengers and 
couriers ran hither and thither. 

The streets were filled with a motley crowd, 
citizens hurrying to and fro, negroes running on 
messages, newsboys crying " extras " printed on short 
slips of the yellow Confederate paper; on one side 
of the street regiments arriving from the far South, 
cheering as they passed ; on the other a train of 
ambulances bearing the wounded, the dead, the 
dying. Now and then a feeble cheer answered the 
strong men going in to win the victory these had 
failed to win, but for which they never ceased to 
look until death closed the watching eyes. 

Every house was opened for the wounded. They 
Jay on verandas, in halls, in drawing-rooms of stately 
mansions. Young girls and matrons stood in their 
doorways with food and fruit for the marching sol- 
diers, and then turned to minister to the wounded 
men within their doors. 

It has been estimated that five thousand wounded 
men were received in private houses and hospitals 
from the field of Seven Pines. The city was 
thrilled to its centre. The city had " no language 
but a cry " ! And yet there was no panic, no frantic 
excitement. Only that Richmond, the mirth-loving, 
pleasure-seeking, was changed into a city of resolute 
men and women, nerved to make any sacrifice for 
their cause. 

At all times during the war the Capitol Square 
was a rallying place where men met and received 



172 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

news and compared chances of success. They would 
sit all day on the hills outside the city and congregate 
in the square in the evening to discuss the events 
of the day and the probable chances for the morrow. 

My news of this battle was coupled with the 
information that my General had fallen ill from 
malarial fever, and had kept up until the army 
approached Richmond, but that he was now lying 
sick in his tent a few miles from the city. 

There I found him. It seemed strange to see 
the daisies growing all over the ground on which his 
little tent was pitched. I obtained leave to move 
him at once, and took him to the Spotswood Hotel 
in Richmond. "He wants nothing now," said kind 
Dr. Dean, " except some buttermilk and good 
nursing." 

The hotel was crowded. President and Mrs. 
Davis were there, Mrs. Joseph E. Johnston, Mrs. 
Myers, wife of the quartermaster-general, and 
many, many more whose names are familiar in all 
the war histories. Everybody was on the alert and 
on the qui vive. 

From my windows I witnessed the constant arrival 
of officers from every division of the army. The 
Louisiana Zouaves were an interesting company 
of men. Their handsome young French Colonel 
Coppens was a fine example of grace and manly 
beauty. He would dash up to the door on his 
handsome horse, dismount, run up the stairs for a 
word with some official, run down again, vault 
lightly into his saddle, and gallop down the street. 
No one was more admired than Colonel Coppens. 



Feminine Jealousies and Heartburnings 173 

I had not visited the drawing-room often before I 
became aware that a bitter feud existed between the 
three eminent ladies I have mentioned — indeed, 
the Richmond Examiner gave a most amusing ac- 
count of one of their spicy interviews. Jealousy 
and consequent heartburning had possessed the 
bosoms of these ladies — do they not intrude into 
every court and camp ? And here were court and 
camp merged into one. Had I remained idle I 
should probably have ranged myself on the side of 
my ci-devant commanding officer, Mrs. Johnston; 
but matters of tremendous importance soon filled 
every mind and heart. 



CHAPTER XIII 

THE SEVEN DAYS' BATTLES 

THE intense heat of July 26th has been noted 
in many of the diaries and records of the 
day. I remember it because I had feared its 
unfavorable effect upon my husband, not yet dis- 
charged by his physicians, and now lying weak and 
listless upon his bed at the Spotswood Hotel in 
Richmond. 

I was reading aloud to him the news in the morn- 
ing papers, fanning him the while, when a peremp- 
tory knock at the door sent me to my feet. An 
ominous-looking note was handed in to " Brigadier- 
General Pryor." Upon reading it, my husband 
slipped to the side of the bed, and reached out for 
his cavalry boots. The note ran : " Dear General, 
put yourself at once at the head of your brigade. In 
thirty-six hours it will all be over. Longstreet." 
Before I realized the tremendous import of the order, 
he was gone. 

McClellan was almost at the gates of the city. 
The famous "seven days' fight" was about to 
begin. 

Several of the officers of our brigade were in the 
hotel, and I ran out to find their wives and learn 

174 



Advance of the Third Virginia 175 

more news from them. On the stair I met Colonel 
Scott, and as he passed me, he exclaimed, " No time 
until I come back, Madam ! " Turning, he paused, 
raised his hand, and said solemnly, " If I ever come 
back." The wife of Captain Poindexter came up at 
the moment. She was weeping, and wringing her 
hands. " Do you think," she said, " that we could 
drive out to camp and see them once more before 
they march ? " 

We hurried into the street, found a carriage, and, 
urging our driver to his utmost speed, were soon in 
sight of the camp. 

All was hurry and confusion there. Ambulances 
were hitching up, troops forming in line, servants 
running hither and thither, horses standing to be 
saddled, light army wagons loading with various 
camp utensils. 

Captain Whitner of the General's staff met me, 
and said, as he conducted me to my husband's tent : 
" The General will be so glad to see you, Madam ! 
He is lying down to rest a few minutes before we 
move." 

He opened his arms to me as I went in, but there 
were no sad words. We spoke cheerily to each 
other, but, unable to control myself, I soon ran out 
to find John and see that he had provided brandy 
and cold tea, the latter a necessity lest good water 
should be unprocurable. Never have I seen such 
a number of flies ! They blackened the land, cor- 
rupted the food, and tormented the nervous horses. 
When I returned, Mrs. Poindexter was standing 
outside the tent waiting for me. " I can see my 



176 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

husband only at the head of his company," she 
said. " Look. ! they are forming the line." 

We stood aside as the brigade formed in marching 
order. The stern command, " Fall in ! Fall in ! 
reached us from company after company stretching 
far down the road. My husband mounted his horse, 
and, drawing his sword, gave the order to advance. 

" Head of column to the right ! " and with steady 
tramp they filed past us — past the only two women, 
of the many who loved them, who had known of their 
going and had come out to cheer and bless them. 

We could not bear to remain a moment after they 
left. Finding our carriage, we were about to enter, 
when the driver pointed back with his whip. There, 
sure enough, rose the puffs of blue smoke from 
McClellan's guns — so near, so near! 

We set our faces homeward, two stunned, tear- 
less women, neither yet able to comfort the other. 
Presently the carriage stopped, and the driver, dis- 
mounting, came to the door. 

"Lady," said he, " there's a man lying on the 
roadside. We just passed him. Maybe he's drunk, 
but he 'pears to me to look mighty sick." 

Fanny Poindexter and I were out of the carriage 
in less than a minute, eagerly embracing an oppor- 
tunity for action — the relief for tense feelings. 

The man wore the uniform of a Confederate 
soldier. His eyes were closed. Was he asleep ? 
We feared the worst when we perceived a thin thread 
of blood trickling slowly from a wound in his throat, 
and staining his shirt. 

We knelt beside him, and Fanny gently pressed 



Saving a Soldier's Life 177 

her handkerchief upon the wound, whereupon he 
opened his eyes, but was unable to speak. " What 
in the world are we to do ? " said my friend. " We 
can't possibly leave him here ! " 

" I can tote him to the carriage," said the kind- 
hearted driver. " He ain' no heavy-weight, an' we 
can car' 'im to dat hospital jus' at de aidge of 
town. Come now, sir ! Don't you be feared. I'll 
tote you like a baby." 

We were terrified lest he should die before we 
reached the hospital. To avoid jolting, we crawled 
at a snail's pace, and great was our relief when we 
drew up at the open door of the hospital and sum- 
moned a surgeon. He ordered out a stretcher and 
took our patient in, and we waited in a little recep- 
tion room until we could learn the verdict after an 
examination of his injuries. 

" It is well for him, poor fellow," said the surgeon 
upon returning to report to us, " that you found him 
when you did. His wound is not serious, but he 
was slowly bleeding to death ! Which of you 
pressed that handkerchief to it ? " I had to acknowl- 
edge that my friend had rendered this service. She 
was one of those nervous, teary little women who 
could rise to an occasion. 

" He had probably been sent to the rear after he 
was wounded, and had tried to find General Pryor's 
camp," said the doctor. "He missed his way, and 
went farther than necessary. It has all turned out 
right. He is able now to write his name — ' Ernst- 
orfF' — so you see he is doing well. When you 
pass this way, you must call and see him." 



178 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

We never went that way again. Two years after- 
ward I was accosted at a railway station by a hand- 
some young officer who said he " had never 
forgotten, never would forget" me. He was 
Lieutenant ErnstorfF! 

All the afternoon the dreadful guns shook the 
earth and thrilled our souls with horror. I shut 
myself in my darkened room. At twilight I had a 
note from Governor Letcher, telling me a fierce 
battle was raging, and inviting me to come to the 
Governor's mansion. From the roof one might 
see the flash of musket and artillery. 

No ! I did not wish to see the infernal fires. I 
preferred to watch and wait alone in my room. 

The city was strangely quiet. Everybody had gone 
out to the hills to witness the aurora of death to which 
we were later to become so accustomed. As it grew 
dark a servant entered to light my candles, but I 
forbade her. Did I not mean to go to supper ? 
I would have coffee brought to me. God only 
knew what news I might hear before morning. I 
must keep up my strength. 

The night was hot and close. I sat at an open 
window, watching for couriers on the street. The 
firing ceased about nine o'clock. Surely now some- 
body would remember us and come to us. 

As I leaned on the window-sill with my head on 
my arms, I saw two young men walking slowly down 
the deserted street. They paused at a closed door 
opposite me and sat down upon the low step. 
Presently they chanted a mournful strain in a 
minor key — like one of the occasional interludes of 



The Midnight Vigil 179 

Chopin which reveal so much of dignity in sorrow. 
I was powerfully affected — as I always am by such 
music — and found myself weeping, not for my 
own changed life, not for my own sorrows, but for 
the dear city ; the dear, doomed city, so loved, so 
loved ! 

A full moon was rising behind the trees in the 
Capitol Square. Soon the city would be flooded 
with light, and then! — would the invading host 
come in to desecrate and destroy ? How dear the 
city had been to me always ! I could remember 
when I was a very little child one just such night as 
this. The splendor, the immensity of the city had 
so oppressed me, coming, as I had come, from the 
quiet country, that I could not sleep. Hot and 
fevered and afraid, I had risen from my little bed 
beside my sleeping mother, and had stolen to the 
window to look out. Like to-night there was a 
solemn moon in the sky, like to-night an awful 
stillness in the city. Just below me a watchman 
had called out, "All's well!" Presently the cry 
was repeated at a distance — " All's well ! " Fainter 
and fainter grew the echo until it became a whisper, 
far away in the distant streets. The watchmen were 
telling me, I thought, telling all the helpless little 
babies and children, all the sick people and old 
people, that God was taking care of them ; that 
" All's well, All's well." 

Ah ! forever gone was the watchman, forever 
silent the cry. Never, never again could all be well 
with us in old Virginia. Never could we stifle the 
memories of this bitter hour. The watchman on 



180 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

the nation's tower might, some day, mark the 
triumphant return of this invading host, and declare, 
" All's well," — our hearts would never hear. Too 
much blood, too much death, too much anguish ! 
Our tears would never be able to wash away the 
memory of it all. 

And so the night wore on and I waited and 
watched. Before dawn a hurried footstep brought 
a message from the battle-field to my door. 

" The General, Madam, is safe and well. Colonel 
Scott has been killed. The General has placed a 
guard around his body, and he will be sent here 
early to-morrow. The General bids me say he will 
not return. The fight will be renewed, and will 
continue until the enemy is driven away." 

My resolution was taken. My children were 
safe with their grandmother. I would write. I 
would ask that every particle of my household 
linen, except a change, should be rolled into band- 
ages, all my fine linen be sent to me for compresses, 
and all forwarded as soon as possible. 

I would enter the new hospital which had been 
improvised in Kent & Paine's warehouse, and would 
remain there as a nurse as long as the armies were 
fighting around Richmond. 

But the courier was passing on his rounds with 
news for others. Presently Fanny Poindexter, in 
tears, knocked at my door. 

" She is bearing it like a brave, Christian woman." 

" She ! Who ? Tell me quick." 

" Mrs. Scott. I had to tell her. She simply 
said, ' I shall see him once more.' The General 



Work in the Hospital 181 

wrote to her from the battle-field and told her how 
nobly her husband died, — leading his men in the 
thick of the fight, — and how he had helped to save 
the city." 

Alas, that the city should have needed saving ! 
What had Mrs. Scott and her children done ? Why 
should they suffer ? Who was to blame for it all ? 

Kent & Paine's warehouse was a large, airy build- 
ing, which had, I understood, been offered by the 
proprietors for a hospital immediately after the battle 
of Seven Pines. McClellan's advance upon Rich- 
mond had heavily taxed the capacity of the hospitals 
already established. 

When I reached the warehouse, early on the morn- 
ing after the fight at Mechanicsville, I found cots on 
the lower floor already occupied, and other cots in 
process of preparation. An aisle between the rows 
of narrow beds stretched to the rear of the building. 
Broad stairs led to a story above, where other cots 
were being laid. 

The volunteer matron was a beautiful Baltimore 
woman, Mrs. Wilson. When I was presented to 
her as a candidate for admission, her serene eyes 
rested doubtfully upon me for a moment. She hesi- 
tated. Finally she said : " The work is very exact- 
ing. There are so few of us that our nurses must 
do anything and everything — make beds, wait upon 
anybody, and often a half a dozen at a time." 

" I will engage to do all that," I declared, and she 
permitted me to go to a desk at the farther end of 
the room and enter my name. 

As I passed by the rows of occupied cots, I saw a 



1 82 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

nurse kneeling beside one of them, holding a pan 
for a surgeon. The red stump of an amputated arm 
was held over it. The next thing I knew I was 
myself lying on a cot, and a spray of cold water was 
falling over my face. I had fainted. Opening my 
eyes, I found the matron standing beside me. 

" You see it is as I thought. You are unfit for 
this work. One of the nurses will conduct you 
home." 

The nurse's assistance was declined, however. I 
had given trouble enough for one day, and had only 
interrupted those who were really worth something. 

A night's vigil had been poor preparation for hos- 
pital work. I resolved I would conquer my cul- 
pable weakness. It was all very well, — these heroics 
in which I indulged, these paroxysms of patriotism, 
this adoration of the defenders of my fireside. The 
defender in the field had naught to hope from me 
in case he should be wounded in my defence. 

I took myself well in hand. Why had I fainted ? 
I thought it was because of the sickening, dead odor 
in the hospital, mingled with that of acids and dis- 
infectants. Of course this would always be there — 
and worse, as wounded men filled the rooms. I 
provided myself with sal volatile and spirits of cam- 
phor, — we wore pockets in our gowns in those days, 
— and thus armed I presented myself again to Mrs. 
Wilson. 

She was as kind as she was refined and intelligent. 
" I will give you a place near the door," she said, 
" and you must run out into the air at the first hint 
of faintness. You will get over it, see if you don't." 



Miss Deborah Couch 183 

Ambulances began to come in and unload at the 
door. I soon had occupation enough, and a few 
drops of camphor on my handkerchief tided me over 
the worst. The wounded men crowded in and sat 
patiently waiting their turn. One fine little fellow 
of fifteen unrolled a handkerchief from his wrist to 
show me his wound. " There's a bullet in there," 
he said proudly. " I'm going to have it cut out, 
and then go right back to the fight. Isn't it lucky 
it's my left hand ? " 

As the day wore on I became more and more 
absorbed in my work. I had, too, the stimulus of 
a reproof from Miss Deborah Couch, a brisk, effi- 
cient middle-aged lady, who asked no quarter and 
gave none. She was standing beside me a moment, 
with a bright tin pan filled with pure water, into 
which I foolishly dipped a finger to see if it were 
warm ; to learn if I would be expected to provide 
warm water when I should be called upon to assist 
the surgeon. 

" This water, Madam, was prepared for a raw 
wound," said Miss Deborah, sternly. " I must 
now make the surgeon wait until I get more." 

Miss Deborah, in advance of her time, was a germ 
theorist. My touch evidently was contaminating. 

As she charged down the aisle with a- pan of water 
in her hand, everybody made way. She had known 
of my " fine-lady faintness," as she termed it, and I 
could see she despised me for it. She had volun- 
teered, as all the nurses had, and she meant busi- 
ness. She had no patience with nonsense, and truly 
she was worth more than all the rest of us. 



184 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" Where can I get a little ice ? " I one day ven- 
tured of Miss Deborah. 

" Find it," she rejoined, as she rapidly passed on ; 
but find it I never did. Ice was an unknown 
luxury until brought to us later from private houses. 

But I found myself thoroughly reinstated — with 
surgeons, matron, and Miss Deborah — when I 
appeared a few days later, accompanied by a man 
bearing a basket of clean, well-rolled bandages, with 
promise of more to come. The Petersburg women 
had gone to work with a will upon my table-cloths, 
sheets, and dimity counterpanes — and even the 
chintz furniture covers. My springlike green and 
white chintz bandages appeared on many a manly 
arm and leg. My fine linen underwear and napkins 
were cut, by the sewing circle at the Spotswood, 
according to the surgeon's directions, into lengths 
two inches wide, then folded two inches, doubling 
back and forth in a smaller fold each time, until 
they formed pointed wedges for compresses. 

Such was the sudden and overwhelming demand 
for such things, that but for my own and similar 
donations of household linen, the wounded men 
would have suffered. The war had come upon us 
suddenly. Many of our ports were already closed, 
and we had no stores laid up for such an emergency. 

The bloody battle of Gaines's Mill soon followed 
— then Frazier's Farm, within the week, and at once 
the hospital was filled to overflowing. Every night 
a courier brought me tidings of my husband. When 
I saw him at the door my heart would die within me ! 
One morning John came in for certain supplies. 



Fortitude of the Wounded 185 

After being reassured as to his master's safety, I 
asked, " Did he have a comfortable night, John ? " 

"He sholy did ! Marse Roger cert'nly was com- 
fortable las' night. He slep' on de field 'twixt two 
daid horses ! " 

The women who worked in Kent & Paine's hos- 
pital never seemed to weary. After a while the 
wise matron assigned us hours, and we went on 
duty with the regularity of trained nurses. My 
hours were from seven to seven during the day, with 
the promise of night service should I be needed. 
Efficient, kindly colored women assisted us. Their 
motherly manner soothed the prostrate soldier, whom 
they always addressed as " son." 

Many fine young fellows lost their lives for want 
of prompt attention. They never murmured. They 
would give way to those who seemed to be more 
seriously wounded than themselves, and the latter 
would recover, while from the slighter wounds gan- 
grene would supervene from delay. Very few men 
ever walked away from that hospital. They died, 
or friends found quarters for them in the homes in 
Richmond. None complained ! Unless a poor man 
grew delirious, he never groaned. There was an 
atmosphere of gentle kindness, a suppression of emo- 
tion for the sake of others. 

Every morning the Richmond ladies brought for 
our patients such luxuries as could be procured in 
that scarce time. The city was in peril, and distant 
farmers feared to bring in their fruits and vegetables. 
One day a patient-looking middle-aged man said to 
me, " What would I not give for a bowl of chicken 



1 86 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

broth like that my mother used to give me when I 
was a sick boy ! " I perceived one of the angelic 
matrons of Richmond at a distance, stooping over 
the cots, and found my way to her and said : " Dear 
Mrs. Maben, have you a chicken ? And could you 
send some broth to No. 39 ? " She promised, and I 
returned with her promise to the poor wounded 
fellow. He shook his head. " To-morrow will be 
too late," he said. 

I had forgotten the circumstance next day, but at 
noon I happened to look toward cot No. 39, and 
there was Mrs. Maben herself. She had brought 
the chicken broth in a pretty china bowl, with nap- 
kin and silver spoon, and was feeding my doubting 
Thomas, to his great satisfaction. 

It was at this hospital, I have reason to believe, 
that the little story originated, which was deemed 
good enough to be claimed by other hospitals, 
of the young girl who approached a sick man with 
a pan of water in her hand and a towel over her 
arm. 

" Mayn't I wash your face ? " said the girl, timidly. 

"Well, lady, you may if you want to," said the 
man, wearily. " It has been washed fourteen times 
this morning ! It can stand another time, I reckon." 

I discovered that I had not succeeded, despite 
many efforts, in winning Miss Deborah. I learned 
that she was affronted because I had not shared my 
offerings of jelly and fruit with her, for her special 
patients. Whenever I ventured to ask a loan from 
her, of a pan or a glass for water or the little things 
of which we never had enough, she would reply, " I 



Hospital Experiences 187 

must keep them for the nurses who understand reci- 
procity. Reciprocity is a rule some persons never 
seem to comprehend." When this was hammered 
into my slow perception, I rose to the occasion. I 
turned over the entire contents of a basket the landlord 
of the Spotswood had given me to Miss Deborah, and 
she made my path straight before me ever afterward. 

At the end of a week the matron had promoted 
me ! Instead of carving the fat bacon, to be dispensed 
with corn bread, for the hospital dinner, or standing 
between two rough men to keep away the flies, or 
fetching water, or spreading sheets on cots, I was 
assigned to regular duty with one patient. 

The first of these proved to be young Colonel 
Coppens, of my husband's brigade. I could com- 
fort him very little, for he was wounded past recov- 
ery. I spoke little French, and could only try to 
keep him, as far as possible, from annoyance. To 
my great relief, place was found for him in a private 
family. There he soon died — the gallant fellow I 
had admired on his horse a few months before. 

Then I was placed beside the cot of Mr. (or Cap- 
tain) Boyd of Mecklenburg, and was admonished by 
the matron not to leave him alone. He was the most 
patient sufferer in the world, gentle, courteous, always 
considerate, never complaining. I observed he often 
closed his eyes and sighed. " Are you in pain, Cap- 
tain ? " " No, no," he would say gently. One day, 
when I returned from my " rest," I found the matron 
sitting beside him. Tears were running down her 
cheeks. She motioned me to take her place, and 
then added, " No, no, I will not leave him." 



1 88 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

The Captain's eyes were closed, and he sighed wear- 
ily at intervals. Presently he whispered slowly : — 

" There everlasting spring abides," 

then sighed, and seemed to sleep for a moment. 

The matron felt his pulse and raised a warning 
hand. The sick, man's whisper went on : — 

" Bright fields beyond the swelling flood 
Stand — dressed — in living green." 

The surgeon stood at the foot of the cot and 
shook his head. The nurses gathered around with 
tearful eyes. Presently in clear tones: — 

"Not Jordan's stream — nor death's cold flood 
Shall fright us — from — the shore," 

and in a moment more the Christian soldier had 
crossed the river and lain down to rest under the 
trees. 

Each of the battles of those seven days brought 
a harvest of wounded to our hospital. I used 
to veil myself closely as I walked to and from my 
hotel, that I might shut out the dreadful sights 
in the street, — the squads of prisoners, and, worst 
of all, the open wagons in which the dead were 
piled. Once I did see one of these dreadful wagons! 
In it a stiff arm was raised, and shook as it was 
driven down the street, as though the dead owner 
appealed to Heaven for vengeance ; a horrible sight 
never to be forgotten. 

After one of the bloody battles — I know not if 



A Dying Colonel as a Courteous Host 189 

it was Gaines's Mill or Frazier's Farm or Malvern 
Hill — a splendid young officer, Colonel Broken- 
borough, was taken to our hospital, shot almost to 
pieces. He was borne up the stairs and placed in a 
cot — his broken limbs in supports swinging from 
the ceiling. The wife of General Mahone and I 
were permitted to assist in nursing him. A young 
soldier from the camp was detailed to help us, and 
a clergyman was in constant attendance, coming at 
night that we might rest. Our patient held a court 
in his corner of the hospital. Such a dear, gallant, 
cheery fellow, handsome, and with a grand air even 
as he lay prostrate ! Nobody ever heard him com- 
plain. He would welcome us in the morning with 
the brightest smile. His aide said, " He watches 
the head of the stairs and calls up that look for 
your benefit." " Oh," he said one day, "you can't 
guess what's going to happen ! Some ladies have 
been here and left all these roses, and cologne, 
and such; and somebody has sent — champagne! 
We are going to have a party ! " 

Ah, but we knew he was very ill ! We were bid- 
den to watch him every minute and not be deceived 
by his own spirits. Mrs. Mahone spent her life 
hunting for ice. My constant care was to keep his 
canteen — to which he clung with affection — filled 
with fresh water from a spring not far away, and I 
learned to give it to him so well that I allowed no 
one to lift his head for his drink during my hours. 

One day, when we were alone, I was fanning him, 
and thought he was asleep. He said gravely, " Mrs. 
Pryor, beyond that curtain they hung up yesterday 



190 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

poor young Mitchell is lying ! They think I don't 
know ! But I heard when they brought him in, — 
as I lie here, I listen to his breathing. I haven't 
heard it now for some time. Would you mind see- 
ing if he is all right ? " 

I passed behind the curtain. The young soldier 
was dead. His wide-open eyes seemed to meet 
mine in mute appeal. I had never seen or touched 
a dead man, but I laid my hands upon his eyelids 
and closed them. I was standing thus when his 
nurse, a young volunteer like myself, came to me. 

" I couldn't do that," she said ; " I went for the 
doctor. I'm so glad you could do it." 

When I returned Colonel Brokenborough asked 
no questions and I knew that his keen senses had 
already instructed him. 

To be cheerful and uncomplaining was the un- 
written law of our hospital. No bad news was ever 
mentioned, no foreboding or anxiety. Mrs. Mahone 
was one day standing beside Colonel Brokenbor- 
ough when a messenger from the front suddenly 
announced that General Mahone had received a 
flesh-wound. Commanding herself instantly, she 
exclaimed merrily : " F/^/z-wound ! Now you all 
know that is just impossible!'' The General had no 
flesh ! He was as thin and attenuated as he was 
brave. 

As Colonel Brokenborough grew weaker I felt 
self-reproach that no one had offered to write letters 
for him. His friend the clergyman had said to me: 
"That poor boy is engaged to a lovely young girl. 
I wonder what is best ? Would it grieve him to 



Death of Colonel Brokenborough 191 

speak of her ? You ladies have so much tact ; you 
might bear it in mind. An opportunity might offer 
for you to discover how he feels about it." The 
next time I was alone with him I ventured : " Now, 
Colonel, one mustn't forget absent friends, you 
know, even if fair ladies do bring perfumes and 
roses and what not. I have some ink and paper 
here. Shall I write a letter for you ? Tell me what 
to say." 

He turned his head and with a half-amused smile 
of perfect intelligence looked at me for a long time. 
Then an upward look of infinite tenderness ; but 
the message was never sent — never needed from a 
true heart like his. 

One night I was awakened from my first sleep 
by a knock at my door, and a summons to " come 
to Colonel Brokenborough." When I reached his 
bedside I found the surgeon, the clergyman, and 
the Colonel's aide. The patient was unconscious ; 
the end was near. We sat in silence. Once, when 
he stirred, I slipped my hand under his head, and 
put his canteen once more to his lips. After a long 
time his breathing simply ceased, with no evidence 
of pain. We waited awhile, and then the young 
soldier who had been detailed to nurse him rose, 
crossed the room, and, stooping over, kissed me 
on my forehead, and went out to his duty in the 
ranks. 

Two weeks later I was in my room, resting after a 
hard day, when a haggard officer, covered with mud 
and dust, entered. It was my husband. 

" My men are all dead," he said, with anguish, 



192 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

and, falling across the bed, he gave vent to the pas- 
sionate grief of his heart. 

Thousands of Confederate soldiers were killed, 
thousands wounded. 

Richmond was saved! 

General McClellan and General Lee both real- 
ized that their men needed rest. My husband was 
allowed a few days' respite from duty. Almost with- 
out pause he had fought the battles of Williams- 
burg, Seven Pines, Mechanicsville, Gaines's Mill, 
and Frazier's Farm. He had won his promotion 
early, but he had lost the loved commander who 
appreciated him, had seen old schoolmates and 
friends fall by his side, — the dear fellow, George 
Loyal Gordon, who had been his best man at 
our wedding, — old college comrades, valued old 
neighbors. 

Opposed to him in battle, then and after, were 
men who in after years avowed themselves his warm 
friends, — General Hancock, General Slocum, Gen- 
eral Butterfield, General Sickles, General Fitz-John 
Porter, General McClellan, and General Grant. 
They had fought loyally under opposing banners, 
and from time to time, as the war went on, one and 
another had been defeated ; but over all, and through 
all, their allegiance had been given to a banner that 
has never surrendered, — the standard of the uni- 
versal brotherhood of all true men. 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE WINTER OF l86l 

THE privilege of nursing in the hospital had 
been bought at a dear price, for it was 
decided positively that I was to surrender, 
for the present, my dream of following the army. 
I was remanded to the mountains, and at Charlottes- 
ville I had news of the events that rapidly followed 
the Seven Days' Battles around Richmond. 

McClellan had been relieved of his command, 
and the defenceless women and children of Northern 
Virginia were handed over to the tender mercies 
of General Pope. McClellan wrote, August 8 : " I 
will strike square in the teeth of all the infamous 
orders of Mr. John Pope, and forbid all pillaging 
and stealing, and take the highest Christian ground 
for the conduct of the war. I will not permit this 
army to degenerate into a mob of thieves, nor will I 
return these men of mine to their families as a set 
of wicked and demoralized robbers." 

General Pope had announced his purpose (which 
he carried out) to subsist his army on our country, 
and to hang or shoot any non-combating citizens 
who might fall into his hands, in retaliation for the 
killing of his soldiers. This was one of " the in- 
famous orders of Mr. John Pope " to which General 
o 193 



194 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

McClellan alluded ; but infamy to some eyes is 
fame to others. Pope superseded McClellan ; but 
he was himself superseded after his defeat at the 
hands of Lee, and McClellan reinstated. 

My husband's brigade followed General Lee, 
fought the battle of Manassas, where he captured 
and paroled the hospital corps, went with him 
throughout the campaign, into Maryland and back, 
fought the battle of South Mountain and the bloody 
battle of Antietam (or Sharpsburg). 

The histories of these battles have been given 
again and again by the military commanders who 
conducted them. At the close of the campaign 
General Lee reported that his men were in the 
finest possible condition — only there were too few 
of them. As the Federal armies were depleted, they 
could be reenforced by foreigners. As our men were 
lost, we had no fresh troops to take their places. 

My husband commanded Anderson's division at 
Antietam, General Anderson having been wounded. 
This battle is quoted, along with the battle of Seven 
Pines, as one of the most hotly contested of the war. 
Sorely pressed at one time, General Pryor despatched 
an orderly to General Longstreet with a request for 
artillery. The latter tore the margin from a news- 
paper and wrote : " I am sending you the guns, 
dear General. This is a hard fight and we had better 
all die than lose it." At one time during the battle 
the combatants agreed upon a brief cessation, that 
the dead and wounded of both sides might be re- 
moved. While General Pryor waited, a Federal 
officer approached him. 



"A Florida Patriot" 195 

"General," said he, " I have just detected one of 
my men in robbing the body of one of your soldiers. 
I have taken his booty from him, and now consign 
it to you." 

Without examining the small bundle, — tied in a 
handkerchief, — my husband ordered it to be properly 
enclosed and sent to me. The handkerchief con- 
tained a gold watch, a pair of gold sleeve-links, a few 
pieces of silver, and a strip of paper on which was 
written, " Strike till the last armed foe expires," and 
signed " A Florida patriot." There seemed to be 
no clew by which I might hope to find an inheritor 
for these treasures. I could only take care of them. 

I brought them forth one day to interest an aged 
relative, whose chair was placed in a sunny window. 
" I think, my dear," she said, " there are pin-scratched 
letters on the inside of these sleeve-buttons." Sure 
enough, there were three initials, rudely made, but 
perfectly plain. 

Long afterward I met a Confederate officer from 
Florida who had fought at Antietam. 

" Did you know any one from your state, Captain, 
who was killed at Sharpsburg ? " 

" Alas ! yes," he replied, and mentioned a name 
corresponding exactly with the scratched initials. 

The parcel, with a letter from me, was sent to an 
address he gave me, and in due time I received a 
most touching letter of thanks from the mother of 
the dead soldier. 

General Lee went into winter quarters at Cul- 
peper, and thither I repaired to visit a kind and 
hospitable family, who were good enough to invite 



196 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

me. In their home I spent two weeks. I had not 
imagined there were so many soldiers in the world 
as I saw then. " You cannot take a step anywhere," 
said a lady, " without treading on a soldier ! " They 
were in the finest spirits, notwithstanding their long 
marches and short rations. Thousands on thousands 
of Federal troops were in Virginia. The highways 
of our chief rivers were closed, our railroads 
menaced. Everything we needed was already 
scarce and held at high prices. Nobody had com- 
forts or luxuries ; nobody murmured because of 
such privations. 

We made our host's drawing-room a camp- 
ing ground, his fire our camp-fire. Around it 
gathered a nightly crowd of gay young soldiers. 
They wished no serious talk, these young warriors ! 
They had a brief respite from fatigue and sorrow, 
and they intended to enjoy it. They sentimental- 
ized, however, over the tender and mournful song, 
" Lorena," which even then touched a chord in 
every heart, and which meant so much of devotion 
and heartbreak two years later. For four years the 
daughters of the South waited for their lovers, and 
some, alas ! waited forever. 

"It matters little now, Lorena, 

The past is the eternal past, 
Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena, 

Life's tide is ebbing out so fast ; 
But there's a future — oh ! thank God — 

Of life this is so small a part ; 
'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod, 

But there, up there, — 'tis heart to heart." 



In Winter Quarters 197 

With pretty Nelly at the piano, her blue eyes 
raised to heaven, and Jack Fleming accompanying 
her on her guitar, his dark eyes raised to Nelly, the 
effect was overwhelming ; and lest somebody should 
quite finish us by singing, " Flee as a bird to the 
mountain," we would hasten to demand the " Bonnie 
Blue Flag," or " Dixie," or the polite invitation to 
"Joe Hooker" to "come out the Wilderness," or, 
better still, a good story. The latter call would 
bring many we had heard before — there are so few 
good stories in the world — but we would welcome 
each one with applause, even if it were no better 

than the story of Captain (I can't remember the 

captain's name) and his black boy " Caesar." I can 
only vouch for the story, which ran thus : — 

The captain, going into a skirmish one day, left 
his tent and its contents in the care of the boy. 
" Mayn't I go he'p de cook ? " said Caesar, much 
desiring to place himself farther in the rear. 

" Stay here, sir, and protect my property ! " 
sternly commanded his master. 

Caesar, when left alone, grew unhappy, and when 
straggling shot fell like hail around the tent, he 
incontinently fled and hid in the bushes. When he 
returned, he found an angry captain indeed. 

"You rascal ! Didn't I leave you here to 
protect my property ? It might have been all 
stolen." 

" I knows it, sah, I knows it ! An' I did purtect 
yo' property, sah ! I sholy did ! Dem ole does 
ain' wuth nothin' ! I'se feared to bresh 'em less'n I 
git a hole in 'em; but dis property," laying his hand 






198 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

proudly on his breast, " dis property is wuth fifteen 
hundred dollars ! " 

Of course so good a story was soon capped by 
another. One of the boys who had been with my 
General at Williamsburg could tell it. A shell had 
entered the domain of pots and kettles and created 
what Domingo the cook termed a " clatteration." 
He at once started for the rear. 

" What's de matter, Mingo ? " asked a fellow- 
servant, " whar you gwine wid such a hurrification ?" 

" I gwine to git out o' trouble — dar whar I 
gwine. Dar's too much powder in dem big things. 
Dis chile ain't gwine bu'n hisself ! An' dar's dem 
Minnie bullets, too, comin' frew de a'r, singin' : 
* Whar — is — you? Whar — is — you?' I ain't 
gwine stop an' tell 'em whar I is ! I'se a twenty- 
two-hundurd-dollar nigger, an' I'se gwine tek keer 
o' what b'longs to marster, I is." 

Of course we heard again the story of Stonewall 
Jackson's body-servant, who always knew before 
anybody when a battle was imminent. 

" The General tells you, I suppose," said one of 
the soldiers. 

" Lawd, no, sir ! De Gin'ral nuvver tell me 
nothin' ! I observates de 'tention of de Gin'ral dis 
way : co'se he prays, jest like we all, mornin' an' 
night ; but when he gits up two, three times in a 
night to pray, den I rubs my eye and gits up too, 
an' packs de haversack, — ca'se I done fine out 
dere's gwine to be de ole boy to pay right away." 

Amusing as were the negro stories, there were 
plenty of others, revealing the peculiar characteristics 



Stories around the Camp-fire 199 

of the common soldier. The soldier from rural 
districts was a trial to his officers in the early days 
of the war. Nothing could make him hurry. " If 
he came to a stream, he would deliberately look 
around for two fence-rails and put them across, and 
the time consumed by a company in crossing in this 
way can be imagined. If his feet hurt him, he would 
sit down on the roadside to tie rags around them." 
He never could be made to understand that freedom 
of speech with an officer, who had been perhaps a 
neighbor, was denied him ; nor yet that he could 
not indulge in good-natured chaff or criticism. 

" Are you sentinel here? " asked an officer, who 
found a sentry sitting down and cleaning his gun, 
having taken it entirely to pieces. 

" Well, I am a sort of sentinel, I reckon." 

" Well, / am a sort of officer of the day." 

" Is that so ? Just hold on till I get my gun 
together, and I will give you a sort of a salute." 1 

When a picket guard at Harper's Ferry was being 
detailed for duty, one of these verdant volunteers 
loudly protested against that manner of carrying on 
war. 

" What's the use of gwine out thar to keep every- 
body off? " he shouted. " We've all kem here to 
hev a fight with them Yankees, an' ef you sen' 
fellers out thar to skeer 'em off", how in thunder are 
we gwine to hev a scrimmage ? " 

In the hardest times of starvation and weariness, 
according to our soldier boys, the situation would be 
relieved by the drollery of some good-natured, great- 

1 " Camp-fire and Battle-field," p. 456 et seq. 



200 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

hearted countryman. Officers who had an easy 
place, and musicians, for a similar reason, were their 
special targets. Rather than be tormented, musi- 
cians would often leave the line of march and go 
through fields to avoid the running fire. "Ah, 
now ! give us a toot on yer old funnel," or, " Brace 
up thar with yer blowpipe ! " 

These fellows who didn't fight were all classed 
under the general term of " bomb-proofs." One of 
these officers — a little man — having appeared in 
an enormous pair of cavalry boots, ran the gantlet 
of a neighboring brigade and heard a frank opinion 
of himself: — 

" I say, Mister, better git out'r them smokestacks ! 
We know you're in thar 'cause we all kin see yer 
head stickin' out. You needn' say yer aint in thar, 
— 'cause yer ears is workin' powerful." 

The allusion to the celebrated long-eared animal 
was awful ! 

If a "bomb-proof" officer — a fellow who had a 
position in the rear — should happen to be smartly 
dressed when cantering along near a regiment, he 
would be apt to change his canter to a gallop as the 
men would shout and whoop : — 

" Oh, my ! Ain't he pooty ? Say, Mister ! whar'd 
ye git that biled shut ? Was ye ra-a-ly born so, or 
was ye put together by corntrack ? Sich a nice- 
lookin' rooster oughter git down an' scratch for a 
wurrum ! " 

Even when a brigade would pass at double-quick, 
going into a battle in which the waiting soldier 
expected any moment to take part, the latter would 
call out : — 



Stories around the Camp-fire 201 

" What's your hurry, boys ? Gwine to ketch a 
train ? " 

They made great fun, too, of their own fears, 
never considering them worthy of being treated seri- 
ously, or as in any way detrimental. 

Under fire at Manassas, a raw recruit was doing 
pretty well, when a rabbit loped across the field. 
Dropping his gun as he was about to shoot, he 
yelled, with honest pathos: — 

" Go it, little cotton-tail, go it ! I'm jest as 
skeered as- you be, an' ef I dar'd, I'd run too." 

A number of militia having given way under fire, 
their commanding officer called out to one of the 
fugitives : — 

" What are you running away for, you 

coward? You ought to be ashamed of yourself." 

" I ain't runnin' away, Gin'ral ! I'm just skeered ! 
Them fellers over thar are shootin' bullets as big as 
watermillions ! One of 'em went right peerst my 
head — right peerst; — an' — an' I wants to go 
home." 

" Well, why didn't you shoot back, sir ? You are 
crying like a baby." 

" 1 knows it, Gin'ral — I knows it. I wish I was 
a baby, and a gal-baby, too, and then I wouldn't hev 
been cornscripted." 

The regiments of Georgia, North Carolina, and 
Virginia could never pass each other without some 
chaffing challenge. 

" Hello, North Car'lina," said an officer to a lanky 
specimen in a shabby uniform. 

" Hello, Virginia." 



202 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" Blockade on turpentine making ? You all hard 
up ? No sale for tar now ? " 

" Well — yes ! " was the slow rejoinder. " We sell 
all our tar to Jeff Davis now." 

" The thunder you do ! What does the President 
want with your tar ? " 

" He puts it on the heels of Virginians to make 
'em stick to the battle-field." 

The staff officer rode on. 

A good story had found its way into our lines from 
a Federal officer. He was commenting upon the fact 
that all Southern women were intense rebels — with 
one exception. He had been with others marching 
down a wooded lane which ended in a sharp curve. 
As they rounded it, they suddenly came upon a 
house, before which was a woman picking up chips. 
As she had evidently not seen them, the officer tip- 
toed up to her, put his arm around her waist, and 
kissed her — and stepped back to avoid the box on 
the ear he knew he deserved. The woman, however, 
straightened herself, looked at him seriously for a 
moment, and said slowly, " You'll find me right 
here every mornin' a-pickin' up chips." 

It would seem that the telling of stories of a mildly 
humorous nature, with the characteristic of dialect, 
was a feature of the war-time, — the President of the 
United States affording a notable example. When 
the gravest matters were under consideration, all things 
were held in abeyance until the illustrative anecdote 
was duly presented. How Mr. Seward chafed under 
them we all know. The poor little stories that went 
the rounds among the rank and file at the camp-fires 



Benefits of Story-telling 203 

in Virginia had their uses. Whatever the weariness, 
the discouragement, the failure of the wagons to come 
up with provisions, by such simple means did the 
brave boys lighten their own and each others' hearts. 
Whenever they had cards they played ; but before 
going into battle the camp-ground would be strewn 
with them, the soldier of the rank and file always 
emptying his pockets of his cards ! His Testament 
was pocketed in their stead. 

In repeating these stories around our blazing log 
fire, and in describing their marches and hard times, 
the brave fellows made sport of all their discomforts 
and of their shifts to supplement deficiencies. They 
told with merriment of the times they had proudly 
drawn over their bruised feet boots found on the 
march, and had suffered such agony from the swell- 
ing of the compressed members that they were fain 
to implore a comrade to cut off the instrument of 
torture; of the time Mr. Giddings and his pretty 
daughters entertained them in Maryland, and of their 
dreadful embarrassment at finding they had raven- 
ously swept the table of every biscuit, every bit of 
ham, every raw tomato — and had wanted, oh, so 
much more ! And how some of them had been cap- 
tured and soon released ; but while prisoners and wait- 
ing for a train, how a Federal officer had talked most 
kindly to them, inquiring for old West Point com- 
rades of his who were on our side ; and how they on 
their part had asked after the welfare of Captain John 
Lea of Petersburg, who had been captured at Wil- 
liamsburg, — to be told by this Federal officer that 
Captain Lea had been dreadfully wounded, and while 



204 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

in the hospital had been nursed by a young lady with 
whom he fell in love, and that the officer had been 
present at their marriage in Williamsburg, and through 
his intercession and that of other old West Point com- 
rades Captain Lea had been released. When the 
time came for parting with the courteous officer our 
boys had respectfully requested his name. " My name 
is Custer," he said. " I do not belong to any regi- 
ment, but am on the staff of General McClellan." 
He was none other than the famous George A. 
Custer of the United States cavalry, destined to 
win for himself immortal renown, and to meet gal- 
lantly an early death in the fight with the Indians 
on the Little Big Horn River. 

Many of these soldier boys — "boys" now no 
longer, but " veterans " — were from Petersburg, and 
had stood in line on the day when Alice and Tabb 
and Marian and Molly and all the other girls had 
waited with me to see them off. It was delightful to 
meet them and to hear news of the others. Where 
was Will Johnson ? Where was Berry Stainback ? 
Will had been captured " for no reason whatever 
except that he and Berry had but one blanket be- 
tween them, and Will had to get himself captured 
when he found Berry had been, in order to continue 
to share the blanket, which was in Berry's posses- 
sion," a story which Will's friends could safely invent 
for their amusement, as his known courage was beyond 
all doubt. 

General " Jeb " Stuart was a great hero with these 
soldier boys, dashing as he did all over the country 
with his eight thousand mounted men. He was our 



"Jeb" Stuart vs. King Arthur 205 

plumed knight — with his gold star and long feather. 
They never wearied of stories of his promptness, his 
celerity, his meteorlike dashes. 

" They'll never catch him ! " said one proudly. 
" They'll always reach the place where he recently 
was. 

" He reminds me of the knights of the olden 
time," said a young lady. 

" The mediaeval knight, my dear young lady," 
said General Johnson, " would be of little use in 
this war. He would have stood no chance with one 
of Stuart's men." 

"Fancy him," said another, "with his two hun- 
dred weight of iron on him, and as much on his big 
cart-horse. Imagine him, armed with a maul or a 
lance, a battle-axe, and six-foot pole, going into a 
fight at Manassas or Antietam." 

" He would never get there," said the General. 
" A light cavalryman of the First Virginia would 
have ridden around King Arthur or Sir Launcelot 
half a dozen times while the knight was bracing 
himself up for action ; and the Chicopee sabre would 
have searched out the joints under his chin, or his 
arm, or his sword-belt, and would have shucked him 
like an oyster before he could get his lance in rest." 

And Jackson was another of their idols. Stories 
of his strategy, his courage, his faith in God, his suc- 
cesses, filled many an hour around the camp-fire in 
the hospitable Culpeper mansion. 

But the chief idol of their hearts — of all our 
hearts — was our beloved commander, our Bayard 
sans peur et sans reproche, General Lee. The hand 



106 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

instinctively sought the cap at the mention of his 
name. Indignant comments were made upon the 
newspaper criticisms of his early misfortunes in the 
western part of Virginia in the autumn of 1861, and 
one occasion was remembered when, his own attention 
having been directed to a fierce newspaper attack, as 
unjust in its conclusions as it was untrue in its state- 
ments, he was asked why he silently suffered such 
unwarranted aspersions; and he had calmly replied 
that, while it was very hard to bear, it was perhaps 
quite natural that such hasty conclusions should be 
announced, and that it was better not to attempt a 
justification or defence, but to go steadily on in the 
discharge of duty to the best of our ability, leaving 
all else to the calmer judgment of the future and to 
a kind Providence. 

Happy was the private soldier who had seen Gen- 
eral Lee, thrice happy the one who had spoken to him. 
Of the latter, a plain countryman, having listened to 
the personal incidents of his fellows, as they related 
various occasions when they had been noticed by 
General Lee, was fired by a desire to emulate them, 
and confided that he, too, had once enjoyed a very 
interesting and gratifying interview with General 
Lee. Importuned to tell it, the soldier modestly 
hesitated, but urged by an evident incredulity on 
the part of his hearers, he took heart of grace and 
related as follows : — 

" I was jest out of the horspittle an' was natchelly 
strollin' round when the scrimmage was goin' on, 
and I saw Gen'ral Lee on a little rise not fur off. 
I santered closer an' closer to him, and when I saw 



Our Bayard, General Lee 207 

him look at me I says, ' Pretty warm work over thar, 
Gen'ral.' He give me a keen look, an' says he, 
quiet-like: 'Where do you belong? Where's your 
regiment?' An' I says, 'I'm lookin' for my regi- 
ment now — Twelfth Virginia.' 'I can help you,' 
says he; 'there is your regiment just going into the 
fight. Hurry up an' join it.' An' I run off proud 
as a pigeon." 

" Didn't you think you might get shot ? " asked 
his comrade. 

" I suttenly did ! I always thinks that. But 
then, thinks I, Gen'ral Lee will be mighty sorry 
'cause he knowed he sent me into danger when I 
was feelin' mighty weak an' poly." 

The incidents were many which the officers and 
soldiers could remember, illustrating the dear com- 
mander's peculiar traits. His aide, Colonel Taylor, 
has written me of one most touching incident : — 

" Tidings reached General Lee, soon after his 
return to Virginia, of the serious illness of one of his 
daughters — the darling of his flock. For several 
days apprehensions were entertained that the next 
intelligence would be of her death. One morning 
the mail was received, and the private letters were 
distributed as was the custom ; but no one knew 
whether any home news had been received by the 
General. At the usual hour he summoned me to 
his presence, to know if there were any matters of 
army routine upon which his judgment and action 
were desired. The papers containing a few such 
cases were presented to him ; he reviewed, and gave 
his orders in regard to them. I then left him, but 



208 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

for some cause returned in a few moments, and with 
my accustomed freedom entered his tent without 
announcement or ceremony, when I was startled and 
shocked to see him overcome with grief, an open 
letter in his hand. That letter contained the sad 
intelligence of his daughter's death. 

" Scarcely less to be admired than his sublime 
devotion to duty," continued Colonel Taylor, " was 
his remarkable self-control. General Lee was 
naturally of a positive temperament, and of strong 
passions ; and it is a mistake to suppose him other- 
wise ; but he held these in complete subjection to 
his will and conscience. He was not one of those 
invariably amiable men, whose temper is never 
ruffled ; but when we consider the immense burden 
which rested upon him, and the numberless causes 
for annoyance with which he had to contend, the 
occasional cropping out of temper which we, who 
were constantly near him, witnessed, only showed 
how great was his habitual self-command. 

" He had a great dislike to reviewing army com- 
munications ; this was so thoroughly appreciated by 
me that I would never present a paper for his action 
unless it was of decided importance, and of a nature 
to demand his judgment and decision. On one 
occasion, when an audience had not been asked of 
him for several days, it became necessary to have 
one. The few papers requiring his action were sub- 
mitted. He was not in a very pleasant mood; 
something irritated him, and he manifested his ill 
humor by a little nervous twist or jerk of the neck 
and head, peculiar to himself, accompanied by some 



General Lee and his Aide 209 

harshness of manner. This was perceived by me, 
and I hastily concluded that my efforts to save him 
annoyance were not appreciated. In disposing of 
some case of a vexatious character, matters reached 
a climax ; he became really worried, and, forgetting 
what was due to my superior, I petulantly threw the 
paper down at my side and gave evident signs of 
anger. Then, in a perfectly calm and measured 
tone of voice, he said, ' Colonel Taylor, when I lose 
my temper, don't you let it make you angry.' 

" Was there ever a more gentle and considerate, 
and yet so positive, reproof? How magnanimous 
in the great soldier, and yet how crushing to the 
subordinate ! The rash and disrespectful conduct 
of the latter would have justified, if it did not 
demand, summary treatment at the hands of the 
former. Instead of this, the first man of his day 
and generation, great and glorious in his humility, 
condescended to occupy the same plane with his 
youthful subaltern, and to reason with him as an 
equal, frankly acknowledging his own imperfections, 
but kindly reminding the inferior at the same time 
of his duty and his position." Great indeed must 
be the man whom we can love all the better for his 
human weakness. 



CHAPTER XV 

GUARDING THE BLACKWATER 

GENERAL PRYOR'S brigade had been com- 
posed of regiments from Alabama, Florida, 
Mississippi, North Carolina, and Virginia. 
Congress having recommended that regiments should 
be enlisted under officers from their own states, — in 
order to remedy, if possible, the disinclination to reen- 
list for the war, — there was a general upheaval and 
change throughout the entire army during the autumn 
of 1862. On the 10th of November General Pryor 
was ordered to report for duty to Major-General 
G. W. Smith, commanding at Richmond, Virginia, the 
Second, Fifth, and Eighth Florida Regiments of his 
brigade being assigned to a Florida brigadier, the 
Fourteenth Alabama and the Fifth North Carolina 
to officers from their respective states. 

On November 2 General Longstreet had written 
to General Pryor: " I understand that General Perry 
will have the Florida regiments. Please make some 
suggestion as to what arrangement we may be able 
to make for you." 

Accordingly my husband consulted General Lee, 
and received the following letter from him, dated 
November 25, 1862 : — 



Military Correspondence 211 

" General : Your letter of the 23d inst. has just been 
received. I regret my inability to detach from this army 
the two regiments to operate on the Blackwater. As far 
as I am able to judge, troops are more wanted here than 
there, and it might be better to bring the troops which it 
is contemplated to unite with those in question to this 
army. I regretted at the time the breaking up of your 
former brigade, but you are aware that the circumstances 
which produced it were beyond my control. I hope it will 
not be long before you will be again in the field, that the 
country may derive the benefit of your zeal and activity." 

On November 29, General Pryor was ordered by 
General G. W. Smith to report to Major-General 
French, and was personally introduced to the latter 
by the following letter : — 

"Richmond, November 29, 1862. 

" My dear General : This will be handed you by 
my friend, Brigadier-General Pryor. General Pryor's brig- 
ade in General Lee's army was recently broken up in 
rearranging the brigades by states. It is intended by the 
government that he shall have a Virginia brigade as soon as 
one can be formed for him. In the meanwhile, it is Gen- 
eral Lee's desire that General Pryor shall serve upon the 
Blackwater — his own section of the country — and he 
directs that the two regiments of cavalry on the Blackwater 
be placed under his command, etc. . . . 

" General Pryor has already won for himself the reputa- 
tion of being one of the best, most daring, and energetic 
officers in the army, highly distinguished in civil life, and 
one of the most influential men in the state, especially in 
his own section. He will cooperate with you thoroughly, 
and I am sure will render good service to the cause and be 
of great assistance to yourself. 



212 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" I am satisfied, from what General Lee writes me, that at 
present we can have no troops from his army. The im- 
pression is, that a great battle is impending in the vicinity 
of Fredericksburg. We must keep our house in order, and 
make the most of the means we have and can procure from 
other sources than General Lee's army. 
" Very truly yours, 

" G. W. Smith, Major-General." 

A rule enforced for the common good often falls 
heavily upon individuals. General Pryor grieved to 
lose his men, and they united in many petitions to 
be allowed to remain with him. He undertook the 
protection of the Blackwater region with an inade- 
quate force, in the certain expectation that reinforce- 
ments would be sent to him. 

The enemy destined to conquer us at last — the 
"ravenous, hunger-starved wolf" — already men- 
aced us. General Longstreet had learned that corn 
and bacon were stored in the northeastern counties 
of North Carolina, and he had sent two companies 
of cavalry on a foraging expedition, to the region 
around Suffolk. 

" The Confederate lines," says a historian, " ex- 
tended only to the Blackwater River on the east, 
where a body of Confederate troops was stationed to 
keep the enemy in check." That body was com- 
manded by General Pryor, now in front of a large 
Federal force, to keep it in check while the wagon- 
trains sent off corn and bacon for Lee's army. This 
was accomplished by sleepless vigilance on the part 
of the Confederate General. The Federal forces 
made frequent sallies from Suffolk, but were always 



Forward to the Blackwater 213 

driven back with heavy loss. It is amusing to read 
of the calmness with which his commanding officers 
ordered him to accomplish great things with his 
small force. 

" I cannot," says General Colston, " forward your 
requisition for two regiments of infantry and one of 
cavalry : it is almost useless to make such requisi- 
tions, for they remain unanswered. You must use 
every possible means to deceive the enemy as to 
your strength, and you must hold the line of the 
Blackwater to the last extremity." 

General French writes : "If I had any way to 
increase your forces, I should do so, but I have to 
bow to higher authority and the necessities of the 
service. But you must annoy the villains all you 
can, and make them uncomfortable. Give them no 
rest. Ambush them at every turn." 

General Pryor did not dream I would come to his 
camp at Blackwater. He supposed I would find 
quarters among my friends at home, but I had now 
no home. Our venerable father had sent his family 
to the interior after the battles around Richmond ; 
had given up his church in Petersburg, and, com- 
mending the women, old men, and children to the 
care of a successor, had entered the army as chaplain, 
"where," as he said, "I can follow my own church 
members and comfort them in sickness, if I can do 
no more." 

As soon as the position of our brigade was made 
known to me, I drew forth the box containing the 
camp outfit, packed a trunk or two, and took the 
cars for the Blackwater. The terminus of the rail- 



214 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

road was only a few miles from our camp. The 
Confederate train could go no farther because of the 
enemy. The day's journey was long, for the pas- 
senger car attached to the transportation train was 
dependent upon the movements of the latter. The 
few passengers who had set forth with me in the 
morning had left at various wayside stations, and 
I was now alone. I had no idea where we should 
sleep that night. I thought I would manage it 
somehow — somewhere. 

We arrived at twilight at the end of our journey. 
When I left the car my little boys gathered around 
me. There was a small wooden building near, which 
served for waiting-room and post-office. The only 
dwelling in sight was another small house, surrounded 
by a few bare trees. My first impression was that I 
had never before seen such an expanse of gray sky. 
The face of the earth was a dead, bare level, as far 
as the eye could reach ; and much, very much of 
it lay under water. I was in the region of swamps, 
stretching on and on until they culminated in the 
one great " Dismal Swamp " of the country. No 
sounds were to be heard, no hum of industry or 
lowing of cattle, but a mighty concert rose from 
thousands, nay, millions, of frogs. 

" Now," thought I, " here is really a fine oppor- 
tunity to be 'jolly'! Mark Tapley's swamps 
couldn't surpass these." But all the railroad folk were 
departing, and the postmaster was preparing to lock 
his door and leave also. I liked the looks of the 
little man, and ventured : — 

" Can you tell me, sir, where I can get lodging 



Charity — her Name and Nature 215 

to-night ? I am the General's wife — Mrs. Pryor — 
and to-morrow he will take care of me. I know he 
has no place for us in camp." 

The little man considered, and looked us over — 
a lady, three little boys, trunks, and a box. 

" I can take thee in myself," he said. " I am just 
going home." 

" Oh, thank you, thank you. I shall need only 
the smallest trunk to-night." 

" I'm afraid I can hardly make thee comfortable, 
as I live alone, but thee is welcome." 

" Thee " ! Oh, joy ! I thought. This is a blessed 
little Quaker ! We'll not part again ! Here I rest. 
We soon reached his door, and he called out for 
" Charity ! " 

The call was answered in person by a black girl in 
a short linsey-woolsey frock which revealed her ankles 
and bare feet, her hair tied in innumerable little tails, 
sticking all over her head like a porcupine's quills. 
She was the most alert little creature I ever saw, 
nimble-footed and quick. " Charity," said my host, 
" have a good fire made upstairs in the front room 
at once. Thee is welcome," he repeated, turning to 
me, and I followed the sable maiden up the stair. 

"And so your name is Charity ? " 

" Charity's meh name an' Charity's meh naycher," 
she informed me. She soon brought in Dick with an 
armful of wood, and a fine, welcome fire cheered us. 

" You needn' be lookin' at de baid," said Charity. 
" I'll soon sheet it. He's got sto's o' quilts, but I 
dunno as he'll s'render 'em." 

It appeared that he would. He brought them, an 



216 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

armful, himself, and the bright patchwork on our two 
beds looked very inviting. 

Charity leaned against the mantel, regarding me 
with leisurely scrutiny, her bare feet crossed one over 
the other. I felt it to be the part of prudence to 
placate her. 

"We'll unlock the trunk," I said, — Dick had 
already fetched it, — " and I'll find a pretty ribbon 
for you." 

" I knowed," said the girl, "you was some punkins 
soon's I sot eyes on you." Before I was summoned 
to the supper of biscuit, fried bacon, and coffee with- 
out cream, Charity had enlightened me about her 
employer ; she made haste to tell me he was not 
her master. " I'se free, I is ! Mo'n dat, he's a 
Quaker, an' ef you ever seen Quakers, you knows 
dey don' like no slaves 'roun'. Yas'm, I'se free — 
an' Dick, he's a po'-white boy. Me'n him does 
all de wuk cep'n in hawg-killin' time, an' den de 
fokes comes fum de quarters to he'p." 

" Are you lonesome ? " I asked, making conver- 
sation. 

"Dat I is. You see he los' his wife two mont' 
ago. Dese here quilts is hern. She made 'em." 

" Dear me," I said, " I'm so sorry ! " 

But Charity had broken down and was sobbing 
with her head against the mantel. 

" Yas'm ! I cert'nly is lonesum ! She jes up an' 
die, an', an' de po' little baby daid too." 

As I lay in bed I thought of the dear dead 
woman. I resolved to be nothing but a comfort 
to Charity and that little Quaker. I made plans for 



Hospitality on the Blackwater 217 

the happiness of both. With my heart full of sym- 
pathy, full of gratitude, full of hope, I slept sweetly 
and long. 

In the morning a message sent from the post-office 
through an inquirer from the camp brought me my 
General ; brought, too, an invitation from my host to 
make this house his headquarters, and during the day 
he moved over bag and baggage. A cook was detailed 
from the camp, we were to furnish our own table ; 
and our kind host looked so deeply wounded when 
we offered rent for our lodgings, that no more 
was said on that subject. I had brought nothing 
with me except the plain contents of my camp chest. 
The thick white china of the table was unattractive, 
and I consulted Charity about the possibility of buy- 
ing something better. Our only market-town, Suf- 
folk, was in the hands of the enemy. 

" He's got painted cups an' saucers, but I dunno's 
he'll s'render 'em," said Charity. 

" Suppose you ask him ! " 

" I dun try 'im once. I ax 'im dat time when his 
mother-in-law cum to see 'im — an' he nuvver say 
nuthin ! Den I let 'im rip ! " 

But after a few days " he " threw in my lap a 
bunch of keys, saying simply, " Everything in the 
house and on the plantation belongs to thee." 
Some of them were enormous, like the key of the 
Bastile, and all were rusted. I selected a small one, 
returning the rest, and in Charity's presence un- 
locked the old mahogany sideboard and counted to 
her the cups, saucers, and plates, gilt-edged, and 
decorated with a rosebud here and there. 



2i 8 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" Good Gawd ! " said Charity. " I nuvver thought 
he'd s'render the chany cups ! " 

" Not one is to be broken," I said, sternly. " If 
you break one, tell me at once and bring me the 
pieces, so I can send to Richmond and replace it." 

I saw but little of my kind host. He lived at 
the post-office, remaining late every night to open 
the mail and have it ready for an early morning de- 
livery to the camp, and returning home at twelve 
o'clock to sleep. Every night thereafter he found a 
bright fire, a clean-swept hearth, and on plates be- 
fore the fire, biscuits, sausage or broiled ham, and 
a little pot of coffee. A table — with a lamp and 
the latest papers — was drawn up beside his arm- 
chair. 

A few months after I left his house for Petersburg 
I received the following letter from him : — 

"Respected P'riend: I have now married. I couldn't 
stand it. 

" Thy friend, 

« I. P." 

Since then I have always counselled, as cure for 
an incorrigible bachelor, simply to take care of him 
beautifully for three months and then — leave him ! 

But to return : Charity's example was contagious. 
"I cert' nly was lonesum" on the Blackwater. The 
General and his staff were forever in the saddle. 
When he returned after his skirmishes and exploring 
expeditions, he was too tired to amuse me. I busied 
myself teaching the little boys and dispensing the 
provisions our men brought me. Bacon and biscuit, 




HON. ROGER A. PRYOR. 
From a photograph, about 1870, 



Lonely Life in the Swamps 219 

without butter, fruit, or milk, was deadly diet for me, 
so I was allowed an occasional courier from the 
camp to take my money and scour the country for 
better fare. When he appeared, galloping down the 
lane, on his return, he looked like some extraordi- 
nary feathered creature with a horse's head, so com- 
pletely were both covered with turkeys, ducks, geese, 
and chickens. Then would ensue a gift to the 
camp hospital of soups and stews and a fine sup- 
per for my General's staff, Major Shepard, Captain 
Whitner, Major Keiley, and Captain McCann, 
with as many choice spirits from the officers as we 
could entertain. Then was brewed, by the majors 
and captains aforesaid, a mighty bowl of egg-nog, 
sweet and very stiff, for there was no milk to temper 
its strength. I feared at first that my Quaker host 
might disapprove, but I never failed to find the 
foaming glass I placed beside his night lamp quite 
empty next morning. 

I could manage to occupy myself during the day. 
I could make a study of Charity, in whom I soon 
perceived quite an interesting character, quick to 
learn, responsive, and most affectionate. She was 
literally my only female companion. I had no 
neighbors, nowhere to drive (the enemy was only 
fifteen miles off) except on the watery lanes, nothing 
to meet when driving except, perhaps, a slow-moving 
cart drawn by steeds like Sydney Smith's " Tug-and- 
Lug, Haul-and-Crawl," driven by a negro boy, who 
stood with feet planted on the shafts and who enter- 
tained his patient, long-suffering oxen by telling them 
of the torments awaiting them unless they would 



220 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" go along." But the long and lonely evenings 
were hard to bear, when the general and his staff 
were abroad, roaming like watch-dogs around the 
frontier, deluding the enemy by a great show of 
bravado here and there. Nothing like the orchestra 
of frogs can be imagined. They serenaded the 
moon all night long ; a magnificent diapason of 
mighty voices, high soprano, full baritone, and 
heavy bass. I could understand the desperate need 
of the lone woman who had once lived here. The 
patchwork quilts were eloquent witnesses. 

As the time dragged on in this lonely place, I 
began to find that I wanted many articles classed in 
a woman's mind generally as " things." 

There is not a more generous word in the 
English language than " things." It may mean, 
according to Stormonth, " A Swedish assize of 
justice, a Norwegian parliament, a meeting for 
palaver on public affairs, luggage, or clothes," — 
which proves how important is the making of new 
dictionaries as we travel along toward our highest 
civilization. For instance : when you say to your 
butler, " Be careful with the breakfast things," he 
understands you perfectly. He knows you mean 
the egg-shell cups, and blossomy plates. When 
you bid your maid bring your " things," she appears 
with your hat, gloves, cloak, and furs. " Her rooms 
are comfortable, but I don't like her things," you 
say when the bric-a-brac and curios are not to your 
taste. " I never speak of such things," you declare 
in haughty superiority when some guest has filled 
an hour with foolish or injurious gossip. " Such 



"Things" Earthly and Heavenly 221 

things are beneath contempt," says the lawyer of 
certain practices familiar in the courts. And then 
we have " poor thing," — not the traditional robin 
who " hides his head under his wing, poor thing," 
but some fine lady, far from young and — unmarried ! 
And "a poor thing, sir, but mine own," — this time 
not a fine lady by any means, only " an ill-favored 
virgin." 

And then, having vexed our souls all the week 
over mundane " things," we are given, on Sunday, 
glimpses of another world quite as full of them. 

" Wean yourselves from earthly idols and fix 
your hearts on heavenly things," says the bishop. 
Things ! Heavenly things ! Stars, harps, crowns 
of righteousness, high and lofty aspirations ! 

Not long after the battle of Fredericksburg a 
participator described the panic, the horror, the 
fleeing of the women and children from their homes. 
" And then," he said, " there arose from that home- 
less, stricken crowd of women a cry of mortal agony, 
1 My things ! Oh> my things ! ' " 

" Things " to me meant only needful garments. 
I could starve with perfect serenity. I could live 
without the latest novel, the late magazines, egg- 
shell china, rich attire, jewels ; but I had not had 
a new bonnet for three years. Shoes, and above 
all shoestrings, were needed by my little boys, 
needles, tapes, sewing thread and sewing silk, stays 
and staylaces, gloves, combs. Of course I needed 
garments of muslin and linen. Had I not rolled 
bandages of mine ? I needed gowns. A calico 
dress now cost $40. But these large "things" 



222 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

were quite beyond all hope on the Blackwater. 
Smaller articles I might, perhaps, compass. The 
General's orders, however, strictly forbade the pur- 
chase by private individuals of articles smuggled 
through the lines. He once confiscated a sloop on 
the Blackwater laden with women's shoes, slippers, 
and Congress gaiters ! He would not allow me a 
shoe ; all were sent to Richmond to be sold for the 
benefit of the government. Communication with 
the enemy must be discouraged lest he discover our 
weakness. 

I knew that most of the tight little carts peddling 
fish, potatoes, and eggs had double bottoms between 
which were all sorts of delightful things, but I never 
dared approach the pedler on the subject ; and as 
I was the commanding officer's wife, he dared not 
approach me. 

One day I was in an ambulance, driving on one 
of the interminable lanes of the region, the only 
incident being the watery crossing over the " cosin," 
as the driver called the swamps that had been 
" Poquosin " in the Indian tongue. Behind me 
came a jolting two-wheeled cart, drawn by a mule 
and driven by a small negro boy, who stood in front 
with a foot planted firmly upon each of the shafts. 
Within, and completely filling the vehicle, which 
was nothing more than a box on wheels, sat a 
dignified-looking woman. The dame of the ambu- 
lance at once became fascinated by a small basket of 
sweet potatoes which the dame of the cart carried in 
her lap. 

With a view to acquiring these treasures I essayed 



The Blockade-runner 223 

a tentative conversation upon the weather, the pros- 
pects of a late spring, and finally the scarcity of 
provisions and consequent suffering of the soldiers. 

After a keen glance of scrutiny the market 
woman exclaimed, " Well, I am doing all I can 
for them ! I know you won't speak of it ! Look 
here ! " 

Lifting the edge of her hooped petticoat, she 
revealed a roll of army cloth, several pairs of cavalry 
boots, a roll of crimson flannel, packages of gilt braid 
and sewing silk, cans of preserved meats, a bag of 
coffee ! She was on her way to our own camp, 
right under the General's nose ! Of course I should 
not betray her — I promised. I did more. Before 
we parted she had drawn forth a little memorandum 
book and had taken a list of my own necessities. 
She did not " run the blockade " herself. She had 
an agent — "a dear, good Suffolk man" — who 
would fill my order on his next trip. 

It isn't worth while to tell men everything. They 
are not supposed to be interested in the needle-and- 
thread ways of women ! 

About three weeks after my interview with the 
blockade-runner, I was driving again in the ambu- 
lance. Suddenly Captain Whitner, who had galloped 
to overtake me, wheeled in front of the horses and 
stopped them. 

" Good morning, Captain ! Any news at camp 
I am permitted to learn ? " 

I perceived the corners of his mouth twitching, 
but he said gravely : — 

" I am commissioned to tell you that you must 



224 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

consider yourself under arrest. I am sent to dis- 
charge this painful duty and conduct you to camp." 

" By whose order, pray ? " 

" Official orders from headquarters," and he pre- 
sented a paper. 

I knew he must be acting a part for his own 
amusement, and I asked no questions. I would 
not gratify him by seeming to be alarmed. 

When I arrived at my husband's tent, I found 
him with Major Shepard, and a wretched-looking 
countryman standing near them. I comprehended 
the situation at a glance and resolved to play my 
part. 

" This prisoner," said the General, " has been 
arrested for bringing in contraband goods in viola- 
tion of express orders. He pleads that the goods 
were ordered by the General's wife for the use of 
the General's family. Have you anything to say to 
show cause why he should not be punished?" 

" May it please the court," I said, turning to 
Major Shepard and Captain Whitner, " I call you 
to witness that I invited you last week to partake 
of a bowl of egg-nog, telling you it was made of 
contraband French brandy. When the command- 
ing officer's attention was called to the fact, he said 
he could do nothing ; he was obliged to submit 
because I was his superior officer, that I outranked 
him everywhere except on the march and the battle- 
field." 

A burst of laughter interrupted me. The chair- 
man called for order. 

" I confess that I deputed this estimable gentle- 



The General's Wife and the Contraband Goods 225 

man to procure some sewing silk for the mending 
of the garments of my subordinate officer. I had 
hoped that through his valor the blockade would, ere 
this, have been raised. Finding myself mistaken — " 

" The prisoner is discharged," said the General, — 
I uttered an exclamation of triumph, — "but," he 
added, " the goods are confiscated for the benefit of 
the Confederate government, and are already on the 
way to Richmond." 

I was very sorry for the fright the poor man had 
suffered for my sake. I took him home with me 
beside the driver on the ambulance. Of course I 
paid him. I had one piece of family silver with me 
for which I had no use on the Blackwater, — a butter 
knife — and I gave it to him as a souvenir of his 
happy escape from danger. 

How did I manage without my needles and 
thread ? 

Charity came to me early one morning with a 
brown paper parcel in her arms. 

" Dat ole creeter," said Charity, " what come 
home wid you las' week, knock at de kitchen do' 
fo' day dis mornin'. He gimme dis, an' say you 
bleeged to git it fo' de Gen'al wake up ; an' — an' — 
he say — but Lawd ! 'tain' wuf while to tell you what 
he say ! But he do say to tell you to gimme sumpin 
out'n de bundle. Gawd knows I ain' no cravin' po'- 
white-folks' nigger, but dat what he say." 

I need not give an inventory of the contents of 
the bundle. They were perfectly satisfactory to me 
— and to Charity. 

We had slender mails on the Blackwater, few 

Q 



226 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

papers, no books. Occasionally a letter from Agnes 
gave me news of the outside world. 

"Richmond, January 7, 1863. 

" My Dearie : Have you no pen, ink, and paper on the 
Blackwater — the very name of which suggests ink ? I get 
no news of you at all. How do you amuse yourself, and 
have you anything to read ? I am sending you to-day a 
copy of Victor Hugo's last novel, " Les Miserables," re- 
printed by a Charleston firm on the best paper they could 
get, poor fellows, pretty bad I must acknowledge. You'll 
go wild over that book — I did — and everybody does. 

" Major Shepard must order some copies for the brigade. 
As he has plenty of meat and bread now, he can afford it. 
I have cried my eyes out over Fantine and Cosette and 
Jean Valjean. The soldiers are all reading it. They 
calmly walk into the bookstores, poor dear fellows, and ask 
for " Lee's Miserables faintin' ! " — the first volume being 
u Fantine." I've worlds of news to tell you. Alice 
Gregory is engaged to Arthur Herbert, the handsomest 
man I know. Alice is looking lovely and so happy. 
Helen came to see me in Petersburg, and is all the time 
worried about Ben. Did you know that Jim Field lost a 
leg at Malvern Hills — or in the hospital afterwards? He 
was such a lovely fellow — engaged to Sue Bland — I never 
saw a handsomer pair. Well, Sue thinks as much as I do 
about good looks, and Jim wrote to release her. She had 
a good cry, and finally came down to Richmond, married 
him, and took him home to nurse him. 

" Do you realize the fact that we shall soon be without 
a stitch of clothes ? There is not a bonnet for sale in 
Richmond. Some of the girls smuggle them, which I for 
one consider in the worst possible taste, to say the least. 
We have no right at this time to dress better than our 
neighbors, and besides, the soldiers need every cent of our 



News from the Outside World 227 

money. Do you remember in Washington my pearl-gray 
silk bonnet, trimmed inside with lilies of the valley ? I 
have ripped it up, washed and ironed it, dyed the lilies blue 
(they are bluebells now), and it is very becoming. All 
the girls intend to plait hats next summer when the wheat 
ripens, for they have no blocks on which to press the coal- 
scuttle bonnets, and after all when our blockade is raised 
we may find they are not at all worn, while hats are hats 
and never go out of fashion. The country girls made 
them last summer and pressed the crowns over bowls and 
tin pails. I could make lovely paper flowers if I had 
materials. 

" It seems rather volatile to discuss such things while 
our dear country is in such peril. Heaven knows I would 
costume myself in cofFee-bags if that would help, but hav- 
ing no coffee, where could I get the bags ? I'll e'en go 
afield next summer, and while Boaz is at the front, Ruth 
will steal his sheaves for her adornment. 

"The papers announce that General French reports the 
enemy forty-five thousand strong at Suffolk. How many 
men has your General ? Dear, dear ! 

" But we are fortifying around Richmond. While I write 
a great crowd of negroes is passing through the streets, sing- 
ing as they march. They have been working on the forti- 
fications north of the city, and are now going to work on 
them south of us. They don't seem to concern themselves 
much about Mr. Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, 
and they seem to have no desire to do any of the fighting. 
" Your loving 

" Agnes." 

" P. S. — I attended Mrs. Davis's last reception. There 
was a crowd, all in evening dress. You see, as we don't 
often wear our evening gowns, they are still quite passable. 
I wore the gray silk with eleven flounces which was made 



228 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

for Mrs. Douglas's last reception, and by the bye, who do 
you think was at the battle of Williamsburg, on General 
McClellan's staff? The Prince de Joinville who drank 
the Rose wine with you at the Baron de Limbourg's recep- 
tion to the Japs. Doesn't it all seem so long ago — so far 
away ? The Prince de Joinville escorted me to one of the 
President's levees — don't you remember? — and now I 
attend another President's levee and hear him calmly tell- 
ing some people that rats, if fat, are as good as squirrels, 
and that we can never afford mule meat. It would be too 
expensive, but the time may come when rats will be in 
demand. 

« Dearly, 

" Agnes." 

The Emancipation Proclamation did not create a 
ripple of excitement among the colored members of 
our households in Virginia. Of its effect elsewhere 
I could not judge. As to fighting, our own negroes 
never dreamed of such a thing. The colored troops 
of the North were not inferior, we were told, in 
discipline and courage to other soldiers ; but the 
martial spirit among them had its exceptions. A 
Northern writer has recorded an interview with a 
negro who had run the blockade and entered the 
service of a Federal officer. He was met on board 
a steamer, after the battle of Fort Donelson, on his 
way to a new situation, and questioned in regard to 
his experience of war. 1 

" Were you in the fight ? " 

" Had a little taste of it, sah." 

"Stood your ground, of course." 

1 "Camp-fire and Battle-ground," p. 238. 



A Negro's Views of his Place in the War 229 

" No, sah ! I run." 

" Not at the first fire ? " 

"Yes, sah, an' would a' run sooner ef I knowed 
it was a-comin' ! " 

" Why, that wasn't very creditable to your 
courage, was it ? " 

" Dat ain't in my line, sah : — cookin's my 
perfeshun." 

" But have you no regard for your reputation ? " 

" Refutation's nothin' by de side o' life." 

" But you don't consider your life worth more 
than other people's, do you ? " 

" Hit's wuth mo' to me, sah." 

" Then you must value it very highly." 

"Yas, sah, I does, — mo'n all dis wuld ! Mo' 
dan a million o' dollars, sah. What would dat be 
wuth to a man wid de bref out o' 'im ? Self- 
perserbashun is de fust law wid me, sah ! " 

" But why should you act upon a different rule 
from other men ? " 

" 'Cause diffunt man set diffunt value 'pon his 
life. Mine ain't in de market." 

" Well, if all soldiers were like you, traitors 
might have broken up the government without 
resistance." 

" Dat's so ! Dar wouldn't 'a' been no hep fer it. 
But I don' put my life in de scale against no gub- 
berment on dis yearth. No gubberment gwine pay 
me ef I loss messef." 

" Well, do you think you would have been 
much missed if you had been killed ? " 

" Maybe not, sah ! A daid white man ain' much 



230 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

use to dese yere sogers, let alone a daid niggah, but 
I'd 'a' missed mysef powerful, an' dat's de pint wid 
me. 

Towards the last of January we had a season of 
warm, humid weather. Apparently the winter was 
over ; the grass was springing on the swamp, green 
and luxurious, and the willows swelling into bud. 
There were no singing birds on the Blackwater as 
early as January 28, but the frogs were mightily 
exercised upon the coming of spring, and their 
nightly concerts took on a jubilant note. 

One day I had a few moments' conversation with 
my husband about army affairs, and he remarked 
that our Southern soldiers were always restless 
unless they were in action. " They never can stand 
still in battle," he said ; " they are willing to yell 
and charge the most desperate positions, but if they 
can't move forward, they must move backward. 
Stand still they cannot." 

I thought I could perceive symptoms of restless- 
ness on the part of their commander. Often in the 
middle of the night he would summon John, mount 
him, and send him to camp, a short distance away ; 
and presently I would hear the tramp, tramp of the 
General's staff officers, coming to hold a council of 
war in his bedroom. On the 28th of January he 
confided to me that on the next day he would make a 
sally in the direction of the enemy. " He is getting 
entirely too impudent," said he ; " I'm not strong 
enough to drive him out of the country, but he 
must keep his place." 

I had just received a present of coffee. This was at 



A Sally against the Enemy 231 

once roasted and ground. On the day of the 
march, fires were kindled under the great pots used 
at the " hog-killing time " (an era in the house- 
hold) and many gallons of coffee were prepared. 
This was sweetened, and when our men paused near 
the house to form the line of march, the servants 
and little boys passed down the line with buckets of 
the steaming coffee, cups, dippers, and gourds. 
Every soldier had a good draught of comfort and 
cheer. The weather had suddenly changed. The 
great snow-storm that fell in a few days was gather- 
ing, the skies were lowering, and the horizon was 
dark and threatening. 

After the men had marched away, I drove to the 
hospital tent and put myself at the disposal of the 
surgeon. We inspected the store of bandages and 
lint, and I was intrusted with the preparation of 
more. 

" I ain' got no use for dis stuff," said my one 
female friend and companion, Charity, whom I pressed 
into service to help me pick lint. " 'Pears like 'tain't 
good for nuthin' but to line a bird's nes'." 

" It will be soft for the wound of a soldier," I 
said, " after he has fought the Yankees." 

" I'll pick den ; I'll tar up my onlies' apun ef he'll 
kill one." 

"Oh, Charity!" 

" Yas'm, I will dat ! Huccome we all don' drive 
'm out o' Suffolk ? Der's lodes an lodes o' shoes 
an' stockin's, an' sugar an' cawfy in Suffolk! An' 
dese nasty Abolition Yankees got 'em all ! " 

" Those are not proper words for you to use," I 



232 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

said. " What have you against the Northern 
people ? They never did you harm." 

" Dey ain't, ain't dey ? " she replied, with feeling. 
" Huccome I'se got to go barfooted ? Hit's scan'- 
lous for a free gal to go barfooted, like she was so 
no 'count she couldn't git a par o' shoes fer her- 
se r. 

" I'll ask the General to order a pair for you." 

" Humph ! " said Charity, scornfully; "you can't 
do nothin' wid dat Gen'al. Ain' I hear you baig 
an' baig 'im for a par o' slippers dat time he fris- 
tricated de boatload full ? I ain' seen you git de 
slippers." 

Charity was not the only one of the Nation's 
Wards who held the enemy in contempt. The 
special terms in which she designated them were in 
common use at the time. She had often heard them 
from the General's servant, John, who shared the 
opinions of the common soldier. Some of the ex- 
pressions of the great men I knew in Washington 
were quite as offensive and not a bit less inelegant, 
although framed in better English. I never ap- 
proved of " calling names," I had seen what comes 
of it; and I reproved John for teaching them to 
my little boys. 

" No'm," said John, "I won't say nothin'; I'll 
just say the Yankees are mighty mean folks." 

My first news from the General was cheering, 
but he would not return for a day or two. He 
must fly about the frontier a little in various direc- 
tions to let the enemy know he was holding his own. 
His official report was as follows : — 



The General's Report and his Address 233 

" To Brigadier-General Colston, Petersburg, Va. 

"Carrsville, Isle of Wight, January 30, 1863. 

" General : This morning at 4 o'clock the enemy under 
Major-General Peck attacked me at Kelly's store, eight 
miles from Suffolk. After three hours' severe fighting we 
repulsed them at all points and held the field. Their force 
is represented by prisoners to be between ten and fifteen 
thousand. My loss in killed and wounded will not exceed 
fifty — no prisoners. I regret that Col. Poage is among 
the killed. We inflicted a heavy loss on the enemy. 
" Respectfully, 

" Roger A. Pryor, Brigadier-General Commanding." 

On February 2 the General thus addressed his 
troops : " The Brigadier-General congratulates the 
troops of this command on the results of the recent 
combat. 

" The enemy endeavored under cover of night to 
steal an inglorious victory by surprise, but he found 
us prepared at every point, and despite his superior 
numbers, greater than your own, in the proportion 
of five to one, he was signally repulsed and com- 
pelled to leave us in possession of the field. 

" After silencing his guns and dispersing his 
infantry, you remained on the field from night until 
one o'clock, awaiting the renewal of the attack, but 
he did not again venture to encounter your terrible 
fire. 

" When the disparity of force between the parties 
is considered, with the proximity of the enemy to 
his stronghold, and his facilities of reinforcements by 
railway, the result of the action of the 30th will be 



234 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

accepted as a splendid illustration of your courage 
and good conduct." 

One of the " enemy's " papers declared that our 
force was " three regiments of infantry, fourteen 
pieces of artillery, and about nine hundred cavalry." 

The temptation to " lie under a mistake " was 
great in those days of possible disaffection, when 
soldiers had to believe in their cause in order to 
defend it. One of the newspaper correspondents of 
the enemy explained why we were not again attacked 
after the first fight. He said : " Some may inquire 
why we did not march forthwith to Carrsville and 
attack the rebels again. The reasons are obvious. 
Had he went \_sic~\ to Carrsville Pry or would have 
had the advantage to cut off our retreat. The 
natives know every bypath and blind road through 
the woods and are ever ready to help the rebels to 
our detriment. Pryor can always cross the Black- 
water on his floating bridge. It is prudent to allow 
an enemy to get well away from his stronghold the 
better to capture his guns and destroy his ammuni- 
tion," etc. 

Another paper declares he was heavily reenforced 
at Carrsville. 

Another records : " The rebels have been very 
bold in this neighborhood. Pryor has been in the 
habit of crossing the Blackwater River whenever he 
wanted to. Our attacking him this time must have 
been a real surprise to him. We took a large 
number of prisoners ! " 

He continued the indulgence of this habit until 
spring, receiving from his countrymen unstinted 



Congratulations from Richmond 235 

praise for his protection of that part of our state. 
While he could not utterly rout the invading army, 
he " held them very uneasy." 

I was made rich by enthusiastic congratulations 
from our capital and from Petersburg. Agnes 
wrote from Richmond : — 

" Have you seen the Enquirer? Of course this is very 
grand for you because this is your own little fight — all by 
yourself. In Richmond everybody says the General is to 
be promoted Major-General. When he is, I shall attach 
myself permanently to his staff. The life of inglorious 
idleness here is perfectly awful. If you suppose I don't 
long for a rich experience, you are mistaken. Give me 
the whole of it — victory, defeat, glory and misfortune, 
praise and even censure (so it be en plein air) — anything, 
everything, except stolid, purposeless, hopeless uselessness. 

14 The worst effect of this inaction is felt in this city, 
where we can manufacture nothing for the soldiers, and 
only consume in idleness what they need. A sort of 
court is still kept up here — but the wives of our great 
generals are conspicuous for their absence. Mrs. Lee is 
never seen at receptions. She and her daughters spend 
their time knitting and sewing for the soldiers, just as her 
great-grandmother, Martha Washington, did in '76 ; and 
General Lee writes that these things are needed. People 
here, having abundant time to find fault, do not hesitate to 
say that our court ladies assume too much state for 
revolutionary times. They had better be careful ! We 
won't guillotine them — at least not on the block (there 
are other guillotines), but it would be lovelier if they 
could realize their fine opportunities. Think of Florence 
Nightingale ! Mrs. Davis is very chary of the time she 
allots us. If King Solomon were to call with the Queen 



236 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

of Sheba on his arm the fraction of a moment after the 
closing minute of her reception, he would not be admitted ! 
I can just see you saying, in that superior manner you see 
fit to assume with me : — 

" ' But, Agnes dear ! that is good form, you know, and 
belongs to the etiquette of polite life.' 

" Of course I know it ! Did I say that Mrs. Davis 
should admit King Solomon ? / wouldn't ! I only tell 
you what other folks think and say — but ajeiv, until I hear 
some more news and gossip. 

" Dearly again, 

" Agnes." 



CHAPTER XVI 



VICISSITUDES OF THE WAR 



M 



Y friend Agnes could soon record graver 
things than idleness or gossip. On April 
4, 1863, she wrote from Richmond: — 



11 My Dear : I hope you appreciate the fact that you 
are herewith honored with a letter written in royal-red ink 
upon sumptuous gilt-edged paper. There is not, at the 
present writing, one inch of paper for sale in the capital 
of the Confederacy, at all within the humble means of the 
wife of a Confederate officer. Well is it for her — and I 
hope for you — that her youthful admirers were few, and 
so her gorgeous cream-and-gold album was only half filled 
with tender effusions. Out come the blank leaves, to be 
divided between her friend and her Colonel. Don't be 
alarmed at the color of the writing. I have not yet dipped 
my goose-quill (there are no steel pens) in the ' ruddy drops 
that visit my sad heart,' nor yet into good orthodox red ink. 
There are fine oaks in the country, and that noble tree 
bears a gall-nut filled with crimson sap. One lies on my 
table, and into its sanguinary heart I plunge my pen. 

"Something very sad has just happened in Richmond — 
something that makes me ashamed of all my jeremiads over 
the loss of the petty comforts and conveniences of life — 
hats, bonnets, gowns, stationery, books, magazines, dainty 
food. Since the weather has been so pleasant, I have been 
in the habit of walking in the Capitol Square before break- 

237 



238 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

fast every morning. Somehow nothing so sets me up after 
a restless night as a glimpse of the dandelions waking up 
from their dewy bed and the songs of the birds in the Park. 
Yesterday, upon arriving, I found within the gates a crowd 
of women and boys — several hundreds of them, standing 
quietly together. I sat on a bench near, and one of the 
number left the rest and took the seat beside me. She was 
a pale, emaciated girl, not more than eighteen, with a sun- 
bonnet on her head, and dressed in a clean calico gown. 
1 I could stand no longer,' she explained. As I made room 
for her, I observed that she had delicate features and large 
eyes. Her hair and dress were neat. As she raised her 
hand to remove her sunbonnet and use it for a fan, her 
loose calico sleeve slipped up, and revealed the mere skeleton 
of an arm. She perceived my expression as I looked at it, 
and hastily pulled down her sleeve with a short laugh. 
1 This is all that's left of me ! ' she said. c It seems real 
funny, don't it?' Evidently she had been a pretty girl — 
a dressmaker's apprentice, I judged from her chafed fore- 
finger and a certain skill in the lines of her gown. I was 
encouraged to ask : ' What is it ? Is there some celebra- 
tion ? ' 

" 4 There «/ said the girl, solemnly ; * we celebrate our 
right to live. We are starving. As soon as enough of us 
get together we are going to the bakeries and each of us 
will take a loaf of bread. That is little enough for the 
government to give us after it has taken all our men.' 

"Just then a fat old black Mammy waddled up the walk 
to overtake a beautiful child who was running before her. 
' Come dis a way, honey,' she called, ' don't go nigh dem 
people,' adding, in a lower tone, ' I's feared you'll ketch 
somethin' fum dem po'-white folks. I wonder dey lets 'em 
into de Park.' 

The girl turned to me with a wan smile, and as she rose 
to join the long line that had now formed and was moving, 



Account of a Bread Riot in Richmond 239 

she said simply, ' Good-by ! I'm going to get something to 
eat!' 

"'And I devoutly hope you'll get it — and plenty of it,' 
I told her. The crowd now rapidly increased, and num- 
bered, I am sure, more than a thousand women and chil- 
dren. It grew and grew until it reached the dignity of a 
mob — a bread riot. They impressed all the light carts 
they met, and marched along silently and in order. They 
marched through Cary Street and Main, visiting the stores 
of the speculators and emptying them of their contents. 
Governor Letcher sent the mayor to read the Riot Act, 
and as this had no effect he threatened to fire on the crowd. 
The city battalion then came up. The women fell back 
with frightened eyes, but did not obey the order to disperse. 
The President then appeared, ascended a dray, and addressed 
them. It is said he was received at first with hisses from 
the boys, but after he had spoken some little time with 
great kindness and sympathy, the women quietly moved on, 
taking their food with them. General Elzey and General 
Winder wished to call troops from the camps to c suppress 
the women,' but Mr. Seddon, wise man, declined to issue 
the order. While I write women and children are still 
standing in the streets, demanding food, and the government 
is issuing to them rations of rice. 

" This is a frightful state of things. I am telling you of 
it because not one word has been said in the newspapers about 
it. All will be changed, Judge Campbell tells me, if we can 
win a battle or two (but, oh, at what a price !), and regain 
the control of our railroads. Your General has been mag- 
nificent. He has fed Lee's army all winter — I wish he 
could feed our starving women and children. 

" Dear1 ?' "Agnes." 

My good Agnes reckoned without her host when 
she supposed General Pryor would be rewarded for 



240 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

his splendid service on the Blackwater. He had 
never ceased all winter to remind the Secretary of 
War of his promise to give him a permanent com- 
mand. He now felt that he had earned it. He 
had fought many battles, acquitting himself with 
distinction in all, — Williamsburg, Seven Pines, 
Mechanicsville, Gaines's Mill, Frazier's Farm, the 
Second Manassas, and Sharpsburg, besides the fight 
on the Blackwater. 

He now wrote, April 6, 1863, an almost pas- 
sionate appeal to the President himself, imploring 
that he be sent into active service, and not be " denied 
participation in the struggles that are soon to deter- 
mine the destinies of my country. If I know 
myself," he added, " it is not the vanity of com- 
mand that moves me to this appeal. A single and 
sincere wish to contribute somewhat to the success 
of our cause impels me to entreat that I may be 
assigned to duty. That my position is not the 
consequence of any default of mine you will be 
satisfied by the enclosed letter from General Lee." 
The letter was followed by new promises. It was 
supplemented by General Pryor's fellow-officers, 
who not only urged that the country should not lose 
his services, but designated certain regiments which 
might easily be assigned to him. The President 
wrote courteous letters in reply, always repeating 
assurances of esteem, etc. The Richmond Examiner 
and other papers now began to notice the matter 
and present General Pryor as arrayed with the party 
against the administration. This, being untrue, he 
contradicted. On March 17, 1863, the President 
wrote to him the following : — 



The General becomes a Private Soldier 241 

" General Roger A. Pryor ; 

" General : Your gratifying letter on the 6th inst. re- 
ferring to an article in the Examiner newspaper which 
seems to associate you with the opposition to the adminis- 
tration, has been received. 

" I did not see the article in question, but I am glad it 
has led to an expression so agreeable. The good opinion 
of one so competent to judge of public affairs, and who has 
known me so long and closely, is a great support in the 
midst of many and arduous trials. 

" Very respectfully and truly yours, 

"Jefferson Davis." 

Among the letters sent to Mr. Davis in General 
Pryor's behalf was one from General Lee and one 
from General Jackson, both of which unhappily 
remained in the President's possession, no copies 
having been kept by General Pryor. 

As time went on, my husband waited with such 
patience as he could command. Finally he resigned 
his commission as brigadier-general, and also his seat 
in Congress, and entered General Fitz Lee's cavalry 
as a private soldier. His resignation was held a long 
time by the President " in the hope it would be 
reconsidered," and repeatedly General Pryor was 
" assured of the President's esteem," etc. General 
Jackson, General Longstreet, General A. P. Hill, 
General D. H. Hill, General Wilcox, General George 
Pickett, General Beauregard, were all his friends. 
Some of them had, like General Johnston and Gen- 
eral McClellan, similar experience. It was a bitter 
hour for me when my General followed me to the 
Amelia Springs with news that he had entered the 



24 2 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

cavalry as a private. " Stay with me and the 
children," I implored. 

" No," he said ; " I had something to do with 
bringing on this war. I must give myself to Vir- 
ginia. She needs the help of all her sons. If there 
are too many brigadier-generals in the service, — it 
may be so, — certain it is there are not enough pri- 
vate soldiers." 

The Divinity that " rules our ends, rough hew 
them as we may," was guiding him. I look back 
with gratitude to these circumstances, — then so hard 
to bear, — circumstances to which, I am persuaded, 
I owe my husband's life. 

General Fitz Lee welcomed him in hearty fashion : 

"Headquarters, August 26, 1863. 

" Honorable, General, or Mr ? How shall I address 
you ? Damn it, there's no difference ! Come up to see 
me. Whilst I regret the causes that induced you to resign 
your position, I am glad, really, that the country has not 
lost your active services, and that your choice to serve her 
has been cast in one of my regiments. 

" Very respectfully, 

" Fitz Lee." 

As a common soldier in the cavalry service, Gen- 
eral Pryor was assigned the duties of his position, 
from not one of which did he ever excuse himself. 

On May 3 General Lee had offered thanks to 
Almighty God for a great victory at Chancellorsville. 

On May 4, the date of Agnes's letter, news came 
that General Jackson had been seriously wounded 



Fitz Lee's Force enters Pennsylvania 243 

and his arm amputated. On May 10 the General 
died, and we were all plunged into the deepest grief. 
By every man, woman, and child in the Confederacy 
this good man and great general was mourned 
as never man was mourned before. From the 
moment of his death the tide of fortune seemed to 
turn. Henceforth there would be only disaster and 
defeat. In losing General Jackson our dear com- 
mander lost his right arm. But this only inspired 
him to greater and more aggressive action. 

He decided to take his army into Pennsylvania, 
and after entering that state, on June 27, he issued 
his famous order, reminding one of General Wash- 
ington's similar order from Pennsylvania, 1777 : — 

" General Order No. 73. From the Headquarters, 
Army of Northern Virginia 

" The commanding general has observed the conduct of 
the troops upon the march, and confidently anticipates re- 
sults commensurate with the high spirit they have mani- 
fested. . . . Their conduct has, with few exceptions, been 
in keeping with their character as soldiers, and entitles them 
to approbation and praise. 

" There have, however, been instances of forgetfulness, 
on the part of some, that they have in keeping the yet un- 
sullied reputation of the army, and that the duties exacted 
of us by civilization and Christianity are not less obligatory 
in the country of the enemy than in our own. 

"The commanding general considers that no greater 
disgrace could befall the army, and through it our whole 
people, than the perpetration of the barbarous outrages 
upon the innocent and defenceless, and the wanton destruc- 
tion of private property, which have marked the course of 



244 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

the enemy in our country. Such proceedings not only dis- 
grace the perpetrators and all connected with them, but are 
subversive of the discipline and efficiency of the army, and 
destructive of the ends of our present movements. It must 
be remembered that we make war only on armed men, that 
we cannot take vengeance for the wrongs our people have 
sufFered without lowering ourselves in the eyes of all whose 
abhorrence has been excited by the atrocities of our enemy, 
and offending against Him to whom vengeance belongeth, 
without whose favor and support must all prove vain." 

Washington, Lee, and McClellan were not alone 
in their ideas of civilized and Christian warfare. 

Eighty-four years before this time there was a war 
in this same country. It was a rebellion, too, and a 
nobleman led the troops of Great Britain through 
the country to subdue the rebellion. The people 
through whose land he marched were bitterly hostile. 
They shot his foraging parties, sentinels, and strag- 
glers ; they fired upon him from every wood. 

On January 28, 178 1, this order was issued from 
camp near Beatty's Ford : — 

" Lord Cornwallis has so often experienced the zeal and 
good will of the army that he has not the smallest doubt 
that the officers and soldiers will most cheerfully submit to 
the ill conveniences that must naturally attend war, so re- 
mote from water, carriage, and the magazines of the army. 
The supply of rum for a time will be absolutely impossible, 
and that of meal very uncertain. It is needless to point out 
to the officers the necessity of preserving the strictest disci- 
pline, and of preventing the oppressed people from suffering 
violence by the hands from whom they are taught to look 
for protection." 



Orders of Lee and of Cornwallis Compared 245 

& * "Headquarters, Causler's Plantation, 

" February 27, 1781. 

" Lord Cornwallis is highly displeased that several houses 
have been set on fire to-day during the march — a disgrace 
to the army — and he will punish to the utmost severity any 
person or persons who shall be found guilty of committing 
so disgraceful an outrage. His Lordship requests the com- 
manding officers of the corps will endeavor to find the per- 
sons who set fire to the houses this day. . . . Any officer 
who looks on with indifference and does not do his utmost 
to prevent shameful marauding will be considered in a more 
criminal light than the persons who commit these scandalous 
crimes." 

Again : — 

"Headquarters, Freelands, February 28, 1781. 
"A watch found by the regiment of Bose. The owner 
may have it from the adjutant of that regiment upon prov- 
ing property." 

Another : — 

"Smith's Plantation, March 1, 1781. 

" Brigade Orders. — A woman having been robbed of 
a watch, a black silk handkerchief, a gallon of brandy, and 
a shirt, and as by description, by a soldier of the guards, the 
camp and every man's kit is to be immediately searched for 
the same, by the officer of the brigade." 

And so it is that every circumstance of life is 
an opportunity for a noble spirit. When we " let 
slip the dogs of war," some men find excuse for 
license and cruelty, others for the exercise of self- 
restraint and compassion. Admiral Porter tells a 
story which may illustrate the strange " point of 



246 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

view " in the minds of some brave men upon the 
legitimate conduct of war. 

" The exploits of the army in foraging," said the 
Admiral, " afforded matter for much amusement 
among the officers at Vicksburg. At Bruensburg, 
General Grant made his headquarters in the spring 
of 1863. Bruensburg and the surrounding country- 
was the great depot for live stock, grain, etc., and 
the soldiers' lines seemed to have fallen in pleasant 
places. Foraging was not prohibited ; in fact the sol- 
diers were cautioned to save the government rations 
for an emergency, so that the squealing of pigs, the 
bleating of calves and sheep, and the cackling of 
poultry were common sounds in camp." 

As an illustration of the wholesale robbery of the 
peaceful citizens Admiral Porter tells of an appeal 
made to General Grant by an old man, long past 
the age to bear arms, who pushed aside the flaps of 
the General's tent and thrust in his head. In his 
hand he held a rope to which was attached a miser- 
able mule, minus one eye. He told the General, in 
the poor-white's vernacular, of his nice little farm, 
well stocked " with the finest lot of chickens, 
turkeys, pigs, an' sheep as ever you seen," and that 
the Yankee soldiers had stolen everything except the 
" ole muel and one goose." 

" Here, Rawlins, attend to this man," said the 
General, and walked away. 

" What do you expect me to do ? " inquired Gen- 
eral Rawlins. " How are you going to find out who 
did all you complain of? " 

" Well, I know who did it," said the old fellow ; 



An "Amusing" Story about Foraging 247 

"it's one of Gin'ral A. J. Smith's rigiments. I 
know the sargint what led 'em on. He belongs to 
the Thirteenth Iowy, an' he kin skin a hog quicker'n 
greased lightnin' ! " 

Just then General Smith walked in the tent, and 
the complaint was laid before him. 

" They weren't my men, sir," said General Smith. 
" I know my boys too well. They would never 
have left that mule and goose ! No, sir, my boys 
don't do things that way ; and I advise you, old 
man, to go back and keep your eye on your goose 
and mule." 

The old man turned to gaze on his beloved mule. 
It was gone ! A soldier stood at the end of the 
rope ! 

General Smith glanced proudly around. "Ah, 
Rawlins," he said, " those must have been my men 
after all. If I could only hear they had eaten the 
goose, I should be sure of it." 

The story does not follow the aged man to his 
desolate cabin ; but it followed the Admiral as an 
amusing story for many an evening around the 
punch-bowl. 

Among the men arrayed against the South in 
battle were many worthy descendants of the men 
who achieved their independence in 1775— 178 1, 
and who then fought shoulder to shoulder with 
the South. 

" They were a brave, self-reliant, patriotic race, 
and in all the characteristics of manliness, persever- 
ance, fortitude, and courage, were the equals of 
any race that ever lived." It was from these men, 



248 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

native-born Americans of the North and West, that 
many a persecuted woman in Georgia, South Caro- 
lina, and North Carolina received help and restitu- 
tion of property. But war brutalizes mean men. 
The few cannot control the many. 

War, wicked, cruel war, knows no mercy, no jus- 
tice. War is the dreadful crime of the world. 
Against war prayer should ascend day and night 
until it shall cease forever. It is not right that it 
should be classed with " pestilence and famine " in 
our prayers. It should have an hour — a daily 
hour — to itself, when old men and women, young 
men and maidens, and little children should implore 
God to make wars to cease from the fair world He 
has created. 

The refugees who came to us from exposed dis- 
tricts within the enemy's lines thrilled our souls with 
horror. We heard these stories from the valley of 
Virginia and from Norfolk. Liberty of speech in 
child or woman was sternly punished. At Norfolk 
a clergyman, the Rev. Dr. Armstrong, had been put 
in the chain gang and compelled to work on the 
streets because of disrespectful allusion to the pres- 
ence of Federal troops. We trembled at these 
recitals ; but we never dreamed the war would 
come to us. At twilight, when the air was clear 
and still, we could hear the booming of the heavy 
guns of the ironclads on James River ; but 
McClellan had been unable to take Richmond, and 
nobody would want little Petersburg. 

In July, General Lee fought and lost the great 
battle of Gettysburg, which plunged our state into 



Defeat at Gettysburg and Fall of Vicksburg 249 

mourning and lamentation. Never can the world 
read with dry eyes of the charge of Pickett's brigade 
and the manner in which it was met. " Decry war 
as we may and ought," says Rhodes in his " History," 
" c breathes there the man with soul so dead ' who 
would not thrill with emotion to claim for his coun- 
trymen the men who made that charge and the men 
who met it ? General Lee bore the disaster mag- 
nificently. An officer, attempting to place on other 
shoulders some portion of the blame, General Lee 
said solemnly, c All this has been my fault — it is / 
that have lost this fight, and you must all help me 
out of it in the best way you can.' " 

The Federal loss in this battle, killed, wounded, 
and captured, was 23,003, the Confederate 20,451 
— making a total of 43,454 good and true men lost, 
in one battle, to their country. The emblem of 
mourning hung at many a door among our friends 
in Richmond and Petersburg. Close upon this 
disaster came news of the fall of Vicksburg. 

On July 3d my General (this was before he re- 
signed his commission) was in Richmond serving on 
a court-martial. In the evening he called upon 
Mr. and Mrs. Davis, and was told the President 
was not receiving, but that Mrs. Davis would be 
glad to see him. The weather was intensely hot, 
and my husband felt he must not inflict a long 
visit ; but when he rose to leave, Mrs. Davis begged 
him to remain, and seemed averse from being left 
alone. After a few minutes the President came in, 
weary, silent, and depressed. The news from Gettys- 
burg sufficiently accounted for his melancholy aspect. 



250 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Presently a dear little boy entered in his night-robe, 
and kneeling beside his father's knee repeated his 
evening prayer of thankfulness, and of supplication 
for God's blessing on the country. The President 
laid his hand on the boy's head and fervently re- 
sponded, " Amen." The scene recurred vividly, 
in the light of future events, to my husband's 
memory. With the coming day came the news of 
the surrender of Vicksburg, — news of which Mr. 
Davis had been forewarned the evening before, — 
and already the Angel of Death was hovering near, 
to enfold the beautiful boy and bear him away from 
a world of trouble. 

I had taken my young family to a watering place in 
the county of Amelia, and there a few homeless women 
like myself were spending the months of July and 
August. Everything was so sad there was no heart 
in any one for gayety of any kind; but one evening 
the proprietor proposed that the ball room be 
lighted and a solitary fiddler, " Bozeman," — who 
was also the barber, — be installed in the musicians' 
seat and show us what he could do. Young feet 
cannot resist a good waltz or polka, and the floor 
was soon filled with care-forgetting maidens — there 
were no men except the proprietor and the fiddler. 
Presently a telegram was received by the former. 
We all huddled together under the chandelier to 
read it. Vicksburg had fallen ! The gallant Gen- 
eral Pemberton had been starved into submission. 
Surely and swiftly the coil was tightening around us. 
Surely and swiftly should we, too, be starved into 
submission. 



CHAPTER XVII 



A HOMELESS WANDERER 



HAVING no longer a home of my own, it 
was decided that I should go to my people 
in Charlotte County. One of my sons, 
Theo, and two of my little daughters were already 
there, and there I expected to remain until the end 
of the war. 

But repeated attempts to reach my country home 
resulted in failure. Marauding parties and guerillas 
were flying all over the country. There had been 
alarm at a bridge over the Staunton near the 
Oaks, and the old men and boys had driven away 
the enemy. I positively could not venture alone. 

So it was decided that I should return to my hus- 
band's old district, to Petersburg, and there find 
board in some private family. 

I reached Petersburg in the autumn and wandered 
about for days seeking refuge in some household. 
Many of my old friends had left town. Strangers 
and refugees had rented the houses of some of these, 
while others were filled with the homeless among 
their own kindred. There was no room anywhere for 
me, and my small purse was growing so slender that 
I became anxious. Finally my brother-in-law offered 
me an overseer's house on one of his " quarters." 

2 5* 



252 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

The small dwelling he placed at my disposal was to 
be considered temporary only ; some one of his town 
houses would soon be vacant. When I drove out 
to the little house, I found it hardly better than 
a hovel. We entered a rude, unplastered kitchen, 
the planks of the floor loose and wide apart, the 
earth beneath plainly visible. There were no win- 
dows in this smoke-blackened kitchen. A door 
opened into a tiny room with a fireplace, window, and 
out-door of its own ; and a short flight of stairs led 
to an unplastered attic, so that the little apartment 
was entered by two doors and a staircase. It was 
already cold, but we had to beat a hasty retreat and 
sit outside while a colored boy made a " smudge " in 
the house, to dislodge the wasps that had tenanted 
it for many months. My brother had lent me bed- 
ding for the overseer's pine bedstead and the low 
trundle-bed underneath. The latter, when drawn 
out at night, left no room for us to stand. When 
that was done, we had to go to bed. For furniture 
we had only two or three wooden chairs and a small 
table. There were no curtains, neither carpet nor 
rugs, no china. There was wood at the woodpile, 
and a little store of meal and rice, with a small bit of 
bacon in the overseer's grimy closet. This was to 
be my winter home. 

Petersburg was already virtually in a state of siege. 
Not a tithe of the food needed for its army of refugees 
could be brought to the city. Our highway, the 
river, was filled, except for a short distance, with 
Federal gunboats. The markets had long been 
closed. The stores of provisions had been ex- 



Patrick Henry's Granddaughter 253 

hausted, so that a grocery could offer little except a 
barrel or two of molasses made from the domestic 
sorghum sugar-cane — an acrid and unwholesome 
sweet used instead of sugar for drink with water or 
milk, and for eating with bread. The little boys at 
once began to keep house. They valiantly attacked 
the woodpile, and found favor in the eyes of Mary 
and the man, whom I never knew as other than 
" Mary's husband." He and Mary were left in 
charge of the quarter and had a cabin near us. 

I had no books, no newspapers, no means of com- 
municating with the outside world ; but I had one 
neighbor, Mrs. Laighton, a daughter of Winston 
Henry, granddaughter of Patrick Henry. She lived 
near me with her husband — a Northern man. Both 
were very cultivated, very poor, very kind. Mrs. 
Laighton, as Lucy Henry, — a brilliant young girl, 
— had been one of the habitues of the Oaks. 
We had much in common, and her kind heart went 
out in love and pity for me. 

She taught me many expedients : that to float 
tea on the top of a cup of hot water would make 
it " go farther " than when steeped in the usual way ; 
also that the herb, " life everlasting," which grew in 
the fields would make excellent yeast, having some- 
what the property of hops ; and that the best substi- 
tute for coffee was not the dried cubes of sweet 
potato, but parched corn or parched meal, making a 
nourishing drink, not unlike the "postum " of to-day. 
And Mrs. Laighton kept me a " living soul " in 
other and higher ways. She reckoned intellectual 
ability the greatest of God's gifts, raising us so far 



254 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

above the petty need of material things that we could 
live in spite of their loss. Her talk was a tonic to 
me. It stimulated me to play my part with courage, 
seeing I had been deemed worthy, by the God who 
made me, to suffer in this sublime struggle for lib- 
erty. She was as truly gifted as was ever her illus- 
trious grandfather. To hear her was to believe, so 
persuasive and convincing was her eloquence. 

I had not my good Eliza Page this winter. She 
had fallen ill. I had a stout little black girl, Julia, 
as my only servant; but Mary had a friend, a 
" corn-field hand," " Anarchy," who managed to 
help me at odd hours. Mrs. Laighton sent me 
every morning a print of butter as large as a silver 
dollar, with two or three perfect biscuits, and some- 
times a bowl of persimmons or stewed dried peaches. 
She had a cow, and churned every day, making her 
biscuits of the buttermilk, which was much too pre- 
cious to drink. 

A great snow-storm overtook us a day or two 
before Christmas. My little boys kindled a roaring 
fire in the cold, open kitchen, roasted chestnuts, 
and set traps for the rabbits and " snowbirds " 
which never entered them. They made no mur- 
mur at the bare Christmas ; they were loyal little 
fellows to their mother. My day had been spent 
in mending their garments, — making them was a 
privilege denied me, for I had no materials. I was 
not " all unhappy ! " The rosy cheeks at my fire- 
side consoled me for my privations, and something 
within me proudly rebelled against weakness or 
complaining. 



Strength and Peace in a Dark Hour 255 

The flakes were falling thickly at midnight, when 
I suddenly became very ill. I sent out for Mary's 
husband and bade him gallop in to Petersburg, 
three miles distant, and fetch me Dr. Withers. I 
was dreadfully ill when he arrived — and as he 
stood at the foot of my bed I said to him : " It 
doesn't matter much for me, Doctor ! But my 
husband will be grateful if you keep me alive." 

When I awoke from a long sleep, he was still stand- 
ing at the foot of my bed where I had left him — it 
seemed to me ages ago ! I put out my hand and it 
touched a little warm bundle beside me. God had 
given me a dear child ! 

The doctor spoke to me gravely and most 
kindly. " I must leave you now," he said, " and, 
alas ! I cannot come again. There are so many, so 
many sick. Call all your courage to your aid. 
Remember the pioneer women, and all they were 
able to survive. This woman," indicating Anarchy, 
"is a field-hand, but she is a mother, and she has 
agreed to help you during the Christmas holidays — 
her own time. And now, God bless you, and good- 
by ! " 

I soon slept again — and when I awoke the very 
Angel of Strength and Peace had descended and 
abode with me. I resolved to prove to myself that 
if I was called to be a great woman, I could be a 
great woman. Looking at me from my bedside 
were my two little boys. They had been taken the 
night before across the snow-laden fields to my 
brother's house, but had risen at daybreak and had 
" come home to take care " of me ! 



256 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

My little maid Julia left me Christmas morning. 
She said it was too lonesome, and her " mistis " 
always let her choose her own places. I engaged 
"Anarchy" at twenty-five dollars a week for all her 
nights. But her hands, knotted by work in the 
fields, were too rough to touch my babe. I was 
propped upon pillows and dressed her myself, some- 
times fainting when the exertion was over. 

I was still in my bed three weeks afterward, when 
one of my boys ran in, exclaiming in a frightened 
voice, " Oh, mamma, an old gray soldier is coming 
in! 

He stood — this old gray soldier — and looked 
at me, leaning on his sabre. 

" Is this the reward my country gives me ? " he 
said ; and not until he spoke did I recognize my 
husband. Turning on his heel, he went out, and I 
heard him call : — 

"John! John! Take those horses into town 
and sell them ! Do not return until you do so — 
sell them for anything ! Get a cart and bring butter, 
eggs, and everything you can find for Mrs. Pryor's 
comfort." 

He had been with Fitz Lee on that dreadful tramp 
through the snow after Averill. He had suffered 
cold and hunger, had slept on the ground without 
shelter, sharing his blanket with John. He had 
used his own horses, and now if the government 
needed him the government might mount him. 
He had no furlough, and soon reported for duty ; 
but not before he had moved us, early in January, 
into town — one of my brother-in-law's houses hav- 



Petersburg and its Comparative Repose 257 

ing been vacated at the beginning of the year. John 
knew his master too well to construe him literally, 
and had reserved the fine gray, Jubal Early, for his 
use. That I might not again fall into the sad 
plight in which he had found me, he purchased 
three hundred dollars in gold, and instructed me to 
prepare a girdle to be worn all the time around my 
waist, concealed by my gown. The coins were 
quilted in ; each had a separate section to itself, so 
that with scissors I might extract one at a time with- 
out disturbing the rest. 

From the beginning of the war to its last year Peters- 
burg had remained in a state of comparative repose, 
broken only by the arrival and departure of the troops 
passing from the South to the Army of Northern 
Virginia. These, as we have said, were always wel- 
comed, if they passed through by day, with gifts of 
flowers, fruit, and more substantial refreshment. 

To continue this greeting, Petersburg women 
denied themselves every luxury. The tramp of 
soldiers was a familiar sound in our streets, but no 
hostile footsteps had ever resounded there, no hostile 
gun had yet been fired within its limits. It is true 
the low muttering of distant artillery as it came up 
the James and the Appomattox from the field of 
Big Bethel had caught the ears of the citizens, and 
they had listened with heightened interest in its 
louder booming as it told of Seven Pines, and the 
seven days' struggle around Richmond, just twenty 
miles away. But when the baffled army of Mc- 
Clellan retired in the direction of Washington, and 
General Lee moved away beyond the Potomac, the 



258 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

old men, women, and children (for there were no 
men left capable of bearing arms) settled down to 
their daily avocations — and daily prayers for the 
dear boys at the front. 

Families that had fled from Petersburg at the time 
of McClellan's advance upon Richmond had now re- 
turned. My next-door neighbors were Mr. Thomas 
Branch and the Rev. Churchill Gibson. From one 
of my windows I could look into a large garden, 
where the workmen were busy planting seeds 
and setting long rows of onions, cabbage plants, 
tomato plants, and sticks for the green peas just 
peeping out of the brown earth. Across the street 
lived the widow of the Hon. Richard Kidder 
Meade, with her accomplished daughters, Mary, 
Marion, and Julia. These were delightful neighbors. 
Lower down lived the Boilings, — parents of Tabb 
Boiling, the superb, already affianced to General 
Rooney Lee. Then Mr. and Mrs. William Banis- 
ter, with another houseful of lovely young women, 
" Mollie " and " Gussie " Banister ; and their cousin, 
Alice Gregory, waiting until the cruel war should be 
over to reward handsome Colonel Arthur Herbert. 
Alice's own home was just outside our fortifications, 
and was, I believe, burned when Petersburg was 
assaulted. Beautiful Patty Hardee was another of 
these girls. Helen made the ninth of the band of 
Muses. All were accomplished in music. Marion's 
latest fancy was significant, — Gottschalk's "Last 
Hope ! " Sweet Alice took our hearts with her 
touching hymns, giving a new meaning to the 
simplest words. 



Brave and Beautiful Young Girls 259 

Gussie Banister, the youngest of all, sang " Lo- 
rena " and " Juanita " ; and Mattie Paul, who often 
came over from Richmond, infused an intenser tone 
of sadness with Beethoven's andantes and Chopin's 
" Funeral March." None of the gayety of Rich- 
mond, of which we read in our letters, was apparent 
in Petersburg. Too many of her sons had been 
slain or were in present peril. 

" What friends you girls are ! " I said, when I met 
them, walking together, like a boarding school. 

" We are all going to be old maids together," 
said one, " and so we are getting acquainted with 
each other." 

" Speak for yourself, John," said Helen, who had 
become the fortunate possessor of " The Courtship 
of Miles Standish " and was lending " Longfellow's 
last " around to the rest. " I spoke for myself, you 
remember," she added, laughing. 

" Well ! it will be no disgrace to be an old maid," 
said another. " We can always swear our going-to- 
be-husband was killed in the war." And then a 
wistful look passed over the young faces as each one 
remembered some absent lover. 

The camp-fire of my own family brigade was now 
lighted in the kitchen, where the hero, John, who 
had been left to take care of me, popped corn for 
my little boys and held them with stories of Fitz 
Lee's pursuit of Averill. 

" Tell us, John," implored his audience, " tell us 
every bit of it. Begin at Winchester." 

" No," said John. " You'll tell your ma, and 
then she won't sleep a wink to-night." 



160 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" She doesn't sleep anyway, John ! When we 
wake up, she's always sitting by the window, look- 
ing out at the stars." 

" Co'se, if that's the case, here goes. Gen'al Lee had 
five thousand troopers, an' they marched from Win- 
chester to Salem. We hadn't a tent, an' no rations 
wuth talkin' about, an' it rained an' hailed an' sleeted 
most every step o' the way. Your pa never took 
off his boots for two solid weeks, an' they were full 
of water all the time, an' the icicles hung from his 
long hair. We drew up in line at the White Sul- 
phur Springs an' dard Averill to fight us — but he 
slunk away in the night. I cert'inly was sorry for 
Marse Roger at the White Sulphur. He went up 
into the po'ch of one of the little cottages an' sat 
down thinkin' an' thinkin'. ' Are you sick, Marse 
Roger ? ' I asked him. f No, John,' he said, ' only 
a little homesick, to think of the happy times we 
used to spend here — and our fathers and mothers 
before us!' 'But we done drive 'im away!' I say 
to him, an' he got up and said, ' Do you think so, 
John ? ' Anyway, Averill didn't git a chance to 
sleep in one of them cottages, nor yet to burn it ! 
Ther' was a hospital thar' then." 

" Where did you sleep ? " the boys asked. 

" Who, me ? I slep' every night o' my life under 
the same blanket with your pa, I did. I don' care 
how tired he was, he never slep' so sound he couldn't 
hear the snorin'. ' Git up, John,' he would say, 
1 tell that man snorin' that he's burnin'.' " John 
laughed at the reminiscence. " I've scared many a 
good soldier that way, an' made him turn over — 



John tells of Averill's Raid 261 

when the fightin' an' shootin' couldn't move 
him." 

" But you did retreat after all, didn't you, John ? " 

" Retreat ! Retreat nothin' ! Gen'al Lee got so 
he didn' care to ketch that scalawag Yankee. He 
warn' wuth ketchin'. We got pris'ners enough now 
an' to spar. Gen'al Lee come home cos he didn' 
have no use for Averill. He drove him away, 
though. He sholy did ! " 

John was installed as cook and commissary- 
general. He had no material except flour, rice, peas, 
and dried apples, such grease or " shortening " as 
he could extract from bones he purchased of the 
quartermaster, and sorghum molasses. He made 
yeast of " life everlasting " I brought from the 
country, — and he gave us waffles and pancakes. 
John's pancakes, compared with the ordinary article, 
were as the fleecy cloud to the dull, heavy clod be- 
neath. Butter could be had at eight dollars a pound ; 
meat was four and five dollars a pound — prices we 
learned very soon afterward to regard as extremely 
cheap ; bargains, indeed, of the first water. From 
Agnes's letters I have reason to suppose that Peters- 
burg suffered more from scarcity than did Rich- 
mond. There, dinners were given by the members 
of the Cabinet, and wine was served as of old. In 
Petersburg we had already entered upon our long 
season of want. The town was drained by its* 
generous gifts to the army ; regiments were con- 
stantly passing, and none ever departed without the 
offer of refreshment. 

We heard no complaints from our soldier boys, 



262 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

still in their winter quarters. But a letter to the 
army from General Lee filled our hearts with anxiety. 

" Headquarters Army of Northern Virginia, 
"January 22, 1864. 

" General Orders No. 7. — The commanding general 
considers it due to the army to state that the temporary 
reduction of rations has been caused by circumstances 
beyond the control of those charged with its support. Its 
welfare and comfort are the objects of his constant and 
earnest solicitude and no effort has been spared to provide 
for its wants. It is hoped that the exertions now being 
made will render the necessity but of short duration, but the 
history of the army has shown that the country can require 
no sacrifice too great for its patriotic devotion. 

u Soldiers ! you tread, with no unequal steps, the road by 
which your fathers marched through suffering, privation, 
and blood to independence. 

" Continue to emulate in the future, as you have in the 
past, their valor in arms, their patient endurance of hard- 
ships, their high resolve to be free, which no trial could 
shake, no bribe seduce, no danger appall ; and be assured 
that the just God who crowned their efforts with success 
will, in His own good time, send down His blessings upon 
yours. 

« [Signed] R. E. Lee, General." 

Calm, strong, fatherly words ! They deserve to 
be printed in letters of gold. They still have power 
• to thrill the souls of the children of the fathers who 
marched through suffering, privation, and blood to 
independence, — children who wait, still wait, for 
the fulfilment of his promise that God will in His 
own good time send down His blessing upon them. 



A Narration of the Condition of Richmond 263 

On January the 30th Agnes wrote from Rich- 
mond : — 

" How can you be even dreaming of new cups and 
saucers ? Mend your old ones, my dear, with white lead. 
That is what we are doing here ; and when the cup is 
very much broken, the triangular, rectangular, and other 
'angular' lines of white give it quite a Japanesque effect. 
There is not a bit of china for sale in the capital of the 
Confederacy. A forlorn little chipped set — twelve odd 
pieces — sold last week at auction for $200 — and as 
to hats and bonnets ! We are washing the old ones and 
plaiting straw for the new. I'll send you a package of straw 
I gleaned and dyed for you last summer. Did I tell you 
about that straw ? I asked my host at the farmhouse to 
give me a few sheaves, but he shook his head and opined 
it would be c sinful in these hard times to take good vittles 
and convert it into hats.' . I could not see clearly that straw 
came under the generic term c vittles ' — unless indeed 'the 
straw fed the animal that fed the soldier. However, I 
meekly borrowed a sunbonnet and gleaned my straw. 
Half of it I popped into the kettle of boiling black dye 
behind the kitchen, — when the lady of the manor was 
looking another way, — and we will mix the black and 
white for the boys' hats. But mark the quick and sure 
grinding of the mills of the gods. After the wheat was 
all stacked there came a mighty rain with fog and warm 
mist. One day my host brought in what seemed to be a 
feathery bouquet of delicate green. It was a bunch of 
wheat, every grain of which had sprouted. He had lost 
his crop ! 

" President and Mrs. Davis gave a large reception last 
week, and all the ladies looked positively gorgeous. Mrs. 
Davis is in mourning for her father. We should not 
expect suppers in these times, but we do have them ! 



264 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Champagne is $350 a dozen, but we sometimes have 
champagne! The confectioners charge $15 for a cake, 
but we have cake. My flounced gray silk is behaving 
admirably, but I am afraid my Washington friends remem- 
ber it as an old acquaintance. I never go out without 
meeting them. I have seen Dr. Garnett and Judge Scar- 
borough and Mr. Dimitri on the street, and often meet 
Mr. Hunter, running about, in his enthusiasm, like a boy. 
But what do you think ? I never could bear that Lord 
Lyons, with his red face and small eyes like ferrets' ; and 
now we have reason to suppose that England would have 
recognized us but for his animosity against us. He says 
' the Confederacy is on its last legs.' We have heard from 
dear old Dudley Mann ; but of course he can do nothing 
for us in England, and he had as well come home and go 
with me to receptions. Mrs. Davis receives every Tues- 
day, and Mr. Mann is a better squire of dames than 
he is a diplomat." 

My Petersburg beauties were all wearing hats of 
their own manufacture, the favorite style being the 
Alpine with a pointed crown. For trimming, very 
soft and lovely flowers were made of feathers, the 
delicate white feather with a tuft of fleecy marabout 
at its stem. The marabout tuft would be carefully 
drawn off, to be made into swan's-down trimming. 
A wire was prepared and covered with green paper 
for a stem, a little ball of wax fastened on the end, 
and covered with a tiny tuft of the down for a 
centre, and around this the feathers were stuck — 
with incurving petals for apple blossoms and half- 
open roses, — and reversed for camellias. Neatly 
trimmed and suitably tinted, these flowers were hand- 



Straits of Petersburg Girls 265 

some enough for anybody, and were in great demand. 
Cocks' plumes were also used on hats, iridescent, 
and needing no coloring. With the downy breast 
of a goose which came into my possession I essayed 
the making of a powder-puff for my baby, but alas ! 
the oil in the cuticle proved a perennial spring which 
could not be dried up by soda or sunning, and finally 
I saw my powder-puff disappearing in a hole, drawn 
downward by a vigorous and hungry rat. 

The young girls who visited me never complained 
of their privations in the matter of food, but they 
sorely grieved over their shabby wardrobes. 

" I really think," said one, " if we can only get 
along until we can wear white waists, we shall do very 
well. Every time a white waist is washed it's made 
new — but these old flannel sacks — ugh !" 

One day Mary Meade made me a visit. Always 
beautiful, her face wore on this afternoon a seraphic, 
beatific expression. 

" Tell me, dear," I said, " all about it." I sup- 
posed she had heard her lover had been promoted 
or was coming home on a furlough. 

She held up her two hands. " It's just these 
gloves!" said Mary. "I can't help it. They 
make me perfectly happy ! They have just come 
through the blockade." 

The butcher shops were closed, and many of the 
dry-goods stores ; but somebody had ordered a large 
quantity of narrow crimson woollen braid, and had 
failed to accept it. We seized upon it. Every one 
of us had garments embroidered with it — in scrolls, 
Maltese crosses, undulating lines, leaves ; all of 



266 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

which goes to prove that the desire for ornament 
is an instinct of our nature, outliving the grosser 
affections for the good things of the table. The 
consciousness of being well dressed, we have been 
told, will afford a peace of mind far exceeding any- 
thing to be derived from the comforts of religion. 

It had not been many years since every Virginia 
farm owned a house for a great cumbrous loom, 
with beams supported against the ceiling. The 
door of the loom-house was again opened, and the 
weaver installed upon her high bench. Cotton 
cloth was woven and dyed yellow with butternut, 
black with walnut-bark, gray with willow. A mor- 
dant to " set the dye " was unattainable — but at 
last rusty iron, nails, old horseshoes, old clamps 
and hinges, were found to be effective. Every atom 
of black silk was a treasure. It was shredded to 
mix with the cotton before carding. Even now the 
cells of my brain waken at the sight of a bundle of 
old black silk, and my fingers would fain respond. 

Pins became scarce. People walked about with 
downcast eyes; they were looking for pins! Thorns 
were gathered and dried to use as pins. Dentists' 
gold soon disappeared. The generation succeeding 
the war period had not good teeth. Anaesthetics — • 
morphine, chloroform, opium — were contraband of 
war. This was our great grief. Our soldier boys, 
who had done nothing to bring the war upon the 
country, must suffer every pang that followed the 
disasters of battle. The United States gave artifi- 
cial limbs to its maimed soldiers. Ours had only 
their crutches, and these of rude home manufacture. 



Famine in Petersburg 267 

The blockade-running, for which our women were 
so much blamed, was often undertaken to bring 
morphine and medicine to our hospitals. The 
fashions of the day included a small round cushion 
worn at the back of a lady's belt, to lift the heavy 
hoop and many petticoats then in vogue. It was 
called " a bishop," and was made of silk. These 
were brought home from " a visit to friends at the 
North " filled with quinine and morphine. They 
were examined at the frontier by a long pin stuck 
through them. If the pin met no resistance, they 
were allowed to pass. 

The famine moved on apace, but its twin sister, 
fever, never visited us. Never had Petersburg been 
so healthy. No garbage was decaying in the streets. 
Every particle of animal or vegetable food was con- 
sumed, and the streets were clean. Flocks of pig- 
eons would follow the children who were eating 
bread or crackers. Finally the pigeons vanished 
having been themselves eaten. Rats and mice dis- 
appeared. The poor cats staggered about the streets, 
and began to die of hunger. At times meal was the 
only article attainable except by the rich. An ounce 
of meat daily was considered an abundant ration for 
each member of the family. To keep food of any 
kind was impossible — cows, pigs, bacon, flour, every- 
thing, was stolen, and even sitting hens were taken 
from the nest. 

In the presence of such facts as these General Lee 
was. able to report that nearly every regiment in his 
army had reenlisted — and for the war ! And very 
soon he also reported that the army was out of meat 



268 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

and had but one day's rations of bread. One of our 
papers copied the following from the Mobile Adver- 
tiser : — 

" In General Lee's tent meat is eaten but twice a week, 
the General not allowing it oftener, because he believes in- 
dulgence in meat to be criminal in the present straitened 
condition of the country. His ordinary dinner consists of 
a head of cabbage boiled in salt water, and a pone of corn 
bread. Having invited a number of gentlemen to dine with 
him, General Lee, in a fit of extravagance, ordered a sump- 
tuous repast of bacon and cabbage. The dinner was served, 
and behold, a great pile of cabbage and a bit of bacon, or 
' middling,' about four inches long and two inches across. 
The guests, with commendable politeness, unanimously de- 
clined the bacon, and it remained in the dish untouched. 
Next day General Lee, remembering the delicate titbit 
which had been so providentially preserved, ordered his 
servant to bring that ' middling.' The man hesitated, 
scratched his head, and finally owned up : — 

" ' Marse Robert — de fac' is — dat ar middlin' was 
borrowed middlin'. We-all didn' have no middlin'. I 
done paid it back to de place whar I got it fum.' 

u General Lee heaved a sigh of deepest disappointment, 
and pitched into the cabbage." 

No man had ever lived in more comfort, nor 
was more surrounded by the accessories and appoint- 
ments of luxury and refinement. His aide, Colonel 
Walter Taylor, has written me : — 

" During the time that General Lee was in service he 
manifested that complete self-abnegation and dislike of 
parade and ceremony which became characteristic of him. 
Accompanied originally by a staff of but two persons, and, 



General Lee's Service of Plate 269 

after the death of Colonel Washington, with but one aide- 
de-camp, with no escort or body-guard, no couriers or 
guides, he made the campaign under altogether unostenta- 
tious and really uncomfortable circumstances. One solitary 
tent constituted his headquarters camp ; this served for the 
General and his aide ; and when visitors were entertained, 
as actually occurred, the General shared his blanket with his 
aide, turning over those of the latter to his guest. His din- 
ner service was of tin, — tin plates, tin cups, tin bowls, 
everything of tin, — and consequently indestructible ; and 
to the annoyance and disgust of the subordinates who 
sighed for porcelain could not or would not be lost ; in- 
deed, with the help of occasional additions, this tin furniture 
continued to do service for several campaigns ; and it was 
only in the last year of the war, while the army was around 
Petersburg, that a set of china was surreptitiously introduced 
into the baggage of the headquarters of the army. This 
displaced for a time the chaste and elaborate plate ; but on 
resuming 'light marching order' at the time of the evacua- 
tion of Richmond and Petersburg, the china, which had 
been borrowed by the staff, was returned ; the tins were 
again produced, and did good service until the surrender of 
the army, when they passed into the hands of individuals 
who now preserve them as mementos of the greatest com- 
mander in the great war." 



CHAPTER XVIII 

THE SIEGE OF PETERSBURG 

JUNE 9 will always be a sacred day to the 
citizens of Petersburg. Every man capable 
of bearing arms had enlisted early in the ser- 
vice of the Southern Confederacy. They felt that 
much was expected of them. Petersburg had be- 
haved gallantly in 1776, and had been the " Cockade 
City" in 18 12. For the first tnree years of the war, 
as we have seen, no gun was fired near her gates. 
Only old men, women, and children were left in the 
town. The maidens bore their denied lives with 
cheerfulness, sustained and encouraged by the stead- 
fast and serene bearing of their elders. Everybody 
worked for the soldiers and assembled every after- 
noon to pray for them. The city was almost as 
quiet as Blandford, her sister city of the dead, where 
the old Blands, Boilings, and Poythresses slept in 
perfect peace. 

True, Petersburg, like Richmond, had her day of 
feverish excitement, known in Confederate history 
as " Pawnee Sunday," when both cities had been 
menaced by an ironclad. Early in the morning a 
telegraph operator had relieved a dull hour by inter- 
viewing his colleague at City Point, " Any danger 
from the Pawnee ? " receiving as answer, " The 

270 



"Pawnee Sunday" 271 

Pawnee is coming up the Appomattox." The town 
was wild. Everything valuable was hidden away, 
and the militia was drawn up, the lads of twelve and 
fourteen loading their hunting pieces and rallying 
to the town hall. Time having been allowed for 
any reasonable, well-conducted man-of-war to steam 
twelve miles, the telegraph operator, sorely pressed 
by questions, again interrogated his City Point friend. 
"What's become of the Pawnee? She isn't here 
yet." The irate answer spun over the line : " You 

— fool ! I said the Pawnee is not coming up the 
river." Everything fell flat at once. There was an 
avowed sense of disappointment at the loss of an 
opportunity which might not come again. The dear 
women — the best I have ever known in any land 

— resumed their gentle ministrations, working much 
for the hospitals, and supplementing with culinary 
skill many deficiencies in material. But the men 
chafed. The veterans had felt the blood leap in 
their veins with the fire of youth ; the boys longed 
for the fray ; the physician, tied to his humdrum 
routine, yearned for the larger sphere in the field. 
" The dearest sacrifice a man can make to his coun- 
try is his ambition." 

The Pawnee incident was a fortunate one for the 
city, for it awakened the authorities to the necessity 
of preparing against surprise. The old, exempt 
citizens were formed into companies for home de- 
fence, and a breastwork was prepared commanding 
a road, " particularly interesting," says one of the 
survivors, " because it opened to deserving Peters- 
burgers the beatific vision of Sussex hams and South- 



272 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

ampton whiskey ; " for at that moment the dreaded 
foe was the wolf already at the door, rather than the 
possible thunderbolt. 

When General Butler, in June, 1864, commenced 
his advance against Richmond, which was intended 
as a cooperative movement with General Grant to 
accomplish what was done the following spring, he 
sent General Kautz on June 9 to make a cavalry 
attack on Petersburg, twenty miles below Richmond. 
The city, as I have said, was almost defenceless. 
There had been much strategy, — marching and 
countermarching, — too long a story to tell here; 
but one thing at least was accomplished, as one of 
the Confederate colonels pithily remarked, " What- 
ever blunders were made, the citizens and militia 
had been trotted out in the direction of the enemy 
at least." Kautz's superb cavalry appeared suddenly, 
was met by the old men and boys of Petersburg, and 
was repulsed. Colonel Fletcher Archer commanded 
the militiamen. Forewarned only a few minutes be- 
fore the charge, he hastily formed his men into line. 
He says: "And what a line! In number scarcely 
more than sufficient to constitute a single company, 
in dress nothing to distinguish them from citizens 
pursuing the ordinary avocations of life, in age many 
of them silvered over with the frosts of advancing 
years, while others could scarcely boast of the down 
upon the cheek of youth ; in arms and accoutre- 
ments such as an impoverished government could 
afford them. But there was that in their situation 
which lifted them above the ordinary rules of criti- 
cism. They stood there, not as mercenaries who, 



The Fight of June 9th 273 

having enlisted on account of profit, required the 
strong arm of military law to keep them to their 
post, nor as devotees of ambition craving a place in 
the delusive pages of history, but they stood as a 
band of patriots whose homes were imperilled and 
whose loved ones were in danger of falling into the 
hands of an untried foe. As they stood in line be- 
fore me I could see them glancing back at their own 
dwellings under the sun of a lovely June morning. 
When I addressed them in a few words of encour- 
agement, they listened with gravity and a full appre- 
ciation of their situation. There was no excitement, 
no shout, only calm resolution." 

Thus their commander. What did the men them- 
selves feel ? One of them wrote : " We had not long 
to wait. A cloud of dust in our front told of the 
hurried advance of cavalry, and the next moment 
the glitter of spur and scabbard revealed a long line 
of horsemen half a mile in front of us. Oh, how 
we missed our cannon ! Our venerable muskets 
were not worth a tinker's imprecation at longer 
range than a hundred yards, and we were compelled 
perforce to watch the preparations for our slaughter, 
much after the fashion that a rational turtle may be 
presumed to contemplate the preliminaries of an 
aldermanic dinner." 

These were the men who saved the city. It was 
in honor of them that the women and children 
marched through dust and heat on June 9, 1866, 
to lay garlands of flowers upon their humble graves, 
and by their pious action to inaugurate the beautitul 
custom, which is now observed all over the country, 

T 



274 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

of honoring the dead who fell in the Civil War. No 
lovelier day ever dawned than June 9, 1864. The 
magnolia grandiflora was in full flower, bee-haunted 
honey-locusts perfumed the warm air, almost extin- 
guishing the peachy odor of the microphylla roses, 
graceful garlands of jessamine hung over the trel- 
lised front porches. Almost the first intimation 
that the town received of its great peril was the 
impetuous dash through the streets of the Confeder- 
ate artillery. The morning was so sweet and bright 
that the women and little children were abroad in 
the streets, on their way to market, or on errands 
to the shops, or to visit with fruit and flowers the 
old and sick among their friends. Lossie Hill, the 
daintiest of dainty maidens, was picking her leisurely 
way in the dusty street, going to spend the morning 
with old Mrs. Mertens, when she heard the frantic 
shout : " Get out of the way ! Damn the women ! 
Run over them if they won't get out of the way." 
This was the morning greeting of the politest of 
gentlemen, — Captain Graham, — whose guns were 
thundering down the street to the rescue of the 
slender line at the front. As fast as the dread news 
reached the men exempt from duty, who were en- 
gaged in their various professions and vocations, 
every one dropped his business and rushed to the 
firing line. The oldest men were as ardent as the 
youngest. One man, a druggist, began, while pull- 
ing on his accoutrements, to give directions to a 
venerable clerk whom he expected to dispense drugs 
in his absence. " Now," said the old man, " if you 
want anything done at home you must talk to some- 



Courage and Patriotism of William Banister 275 

body else ! I am going to the front ! I'm just like 
General Lee. I should be glad if these fellows would 
go back to their homes and let us alone, but if they 
won't they must be made to, that's all." With their 
arms around their father, pretty Molly and Gussie 
Banister implored him not to go forth. He was 
president of the bank, he was frail and not young. 
" The duty of every man lies yonder," said he, 
pointing to the puffs of smoke at the gates of the 
town, and shouldering his musket he marched away. 

Mr. William C. Banister was a cultivated, Chris- 
tian gentleman, one of Petersburg's most esteemed 
and beloved citizens. His widow and sweet daugh- 
ters received him — dead — on the evening of the 
battle. Molly Banister, one of the dear girls who 
blessed my life in those anxious days, has told the 
story of her martyred father's patriotic fervor : — 

" My father had been on duty out on the lines 
on previous occasions, always against the entreaty 
of the members of his family. We thought his 
infirmity, deafness, ought to excuse him. Besides 
this, he was a bank officer and over military age. 
When the court-house bell, on the morning of the 
9th of June, sounded the alarm, he was at his place 
of business, in the old Exchange Bank, and we 
hoped he would not hear it. He got information, 
however, of the condition of things, came at once 
home, and informed us of his purpose to go out to 
the lines. My mother and I besought him not to 
go, urging that he could not hear the orders. 

"' If I can't hear,' he said, ' I can fight — I can fire 
a gun. This is no time for any one to stand back. 



276 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Every man that can shoulder a musket must fight. 
The enemy are now right upon us.' 

" Bidding us good-by he left the house. On 
the street, near our gate, was a man, just from the 
lines. Addressing him, my father said, pointing to 
the lines : — 

" ' My friend, you are needed in this direction.' 

"' I am absent on leave,' said the man. 

" ' No leave,' replied my father, ' should keep 
you on such an occasion as this. Every man 
should fight now! ' 

" I have been informed that as he came up from 
the bank he urged in the same way all whom he 
met, capable, as he thought, of bearing arms." 

Patty Hardee's father, another man past age for 
military service, was one of the first to report for 
duty, and among the first to be borne, dead, to his 
daughter. 

Robert Martin, also exempt, and the father of 
an adoring family, immediately joined the ranks. 
Almost totally deaf, he could hear no orders, and 
continued to load his gun after the order to cease 
firing was given and the company had begun to 
move off. A comrade ran up, put his lips to his 
ear, and remonstrated. " Stop firing ! " exclaimed 
the veteran with disgust. " Orders? I haven't any 
orders to stop firing," and he continued to advance. 
As Nelson at Copenhagen, who, when told that he 
had been signalled to stop fighting, turned his blind 
eye to the station, exclaiming, " / see no signal ! " 

These are but a few of the many incidents which 
illustrate the courage of these stout-hearted veterans 



"The Cradle and the Grave" 277 

and the spirit behind their small force which in- 
spired that courage and compelled success. They 
fought — one hundred and twenty-five men, badly 
armed and untrained — behind their frail defence; 
one hundred and twenty-five against twenty-three 
hundred of the enemy, holding them at bay for two 
hours ! General Butler was greatly chagrined at 
the failure of this move upon Petersburg. He sent 
a characteristic letter of reproof to his general officer 
north of the Appomattox. After detailing all the 
mistakes that had led to the humiliating repulse, he 
adds testily : " You have endeavored to state in 
your report what my orders to General Kautz 
were. That was no part of your report. I know 
what my orders were without any information from 
that source," adding, " certain it is that forty-five 
hundred of my best troops have been kept at bay 
by some fifteen hundred men, six hundred only of 
which were Confederate troops and the rest old 
men and boys, the cradle and the grave being 
robbed of about equal proportions to compose the 
force opposed to you." 

" The cradle and the grave ! " Alas, yes ! 
There was no triumph on the evening of that day. 
Half the gallant company was gone. There was 
wailing within the city gates that night. " The 
hand of the reaper " had taken " the ears that were 
hoary," and the daughters wept for the good, gray 
head gone forward to the "eternal camping ground " 
after a long life of peace. For these gallant gentle- 
men the white rose which shaded my door yielded 
all its pure blossoms. Well was it for the sake of 



278 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

my own devotion that this was an ever blooming 
rose ! I had watered and nourished it with care, 
unconscious of its high vocation, to bud and blos- 
som and lie on the noble heart of more than one 
soldier. My own husband was in the fight, and 
sent the first news of the repulse of the enemy and 
the safety of his boyhood's home. 

Immediately after the battle on the line, June 9, 
we observed unusual activity in our streets. Great 
army wagons passed continually, pausing often 
at a well before my door to water their horses. 
Clouds of dust filled the city. Evidently some- 
thing unusual was going on. " We are only re- 
enforcing our defences," we said, and comforted 
ourselves in the thought. 

One day my father came in unexpectedly. The 
army corps to which he was attached had camped 
near Petersburg ! 

" I've just met General Lee in the street," he 
said. 

I uttered an exclamation of alarm. " Oh, is he 
going to fight here ? " 

" My dear," said my father, sternly, " you sur- 
prise me ! The safest place for you is in the rear of 
General Lee's army, and that happens to be just 
where you are ! The lines are established just here, 
and filled with Lee's veterans." 

This was startling news, but more was to follow. 
One Sunday afternoon, — the next, I think, — the 
Presbyterian minister had gathered his flock of 
women and children for service in the church op- 
posite my home, and had just uttered the first sen- 



General Grant shells Petersburg 279 

tence of his opening prayer, " Almighty Father, we 
are assembled to worship Thee in the presence of 
our enemies," when an awful, serpentlike hiss filled, 
the church, and a shell burst through the wall. 

In a moment the church was empty, and Dr. 
Miller, the pastor, was telling me that his congre- 
gation had dismissed itself without a benediction ! 

"And the shell?" I inquired. 

" It lies upon the table in the church," said the 
doctor; "nobody dares remove it." 

This was the first shell that entered our part of 
the town. From that moment we were shelled at 
intervals, and very severely. There were no sol- 
diers in the city. Women were killed on the lower 
streets, and an exodus from the shelled districts 
commenced at once. 

As soon as the enemy brought up their siege guns 
of heavy artillery, they opened on the city with shell 
without the slightest notice, or without giving op- 
portunity for the removal of non-combatants, the 
sick, the wounded, or the women and children. 
The fire was at first directed toward the Old Mar- 
ket, presumably because of the railroad depot situ- 
ated there, about which soldiers might be supposed 
to collect. But the guns soon enlarged their opera- 
tions, sweeping all the streets in the business part 
of the city, and then invading the residential region. 
The steeples of the churches seemed to afford tar- 
gets for their fire, all of them coming in finally for a 
share of the compliment. 

To persons unfamiliar with the infernal noise 
made by the screaming, ricocheting, and bursting 



280 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

of shells, it is impossible to describe the terror and 
demoralization which ensued. Some families who 
could not leave the besieged city dug holes in the 
ground, five or six feet deep, covered with heavy 
timbers banked over with earth, the entrance facing 
opposite the batteries from which the shells were 
fired. They made these bomb-proofs safe, at least, 
and thither the family repaired when heavy shelling 
commenced. General Lee seemed to recognize that 
no part of the city was safe, for he immediately 
ordered the removal of all the hospitals, under the 
care of Petersburg's esteemed physician, Dr. John 
Herbert Claiborne. There were three thousand 
sick and wounded, many of them too ill to be 
moved. A long, never-ending line of wagons, carts, 
everything that could run on wheels, passed my 
door, until there were no more to pass. We soon 
learned the peculiar, deep boom of the one great gun 
which bore directly upon us. The boys named it 
" Long Tom." Sometimes for several weeks " Long 
Tom " rested or slept — and would then make up for 
lost time. And yet we yielded to no panic. The 
children seemed to understand that it would be cow- 
ardly to complain. One little girl cried out with fright 
at an explosion ; but her aunt, Mrs. Gibson, took her 
in her arms, and said : " My dear, you cannot make 
it harder for other people ! If you feel very much 
afraid, come to me, and I will clasp you close, but 
you mustn't cry." 

Charles Campbell, the historian, lived near us, at 
the Anderson Seminary. He cleared out the large 
coal cellar, which was fortunately dry, spread rugs 



"Frenshman nevare fight for Neeger" 281 

on the floor, and furnished it with lounges and 
chairs. There we took refuge when the firing was 
unbearable. Some of our neighbors piled bags of 
sand around their houses, and thus made them 
bomb-proof. 

The Rev. Dr. Hoge, who had come South from 
the Brick Church, New York, of which he had been 
pastor, was lying ill and dying a few miles from 
Petersburg, and my friend Mrs. Bland invited me 
to accompany her to visit him. She had borrowed 
an ambulance from General Bushrod Johnston. 

We made our call upon our sick friend, and were 
on our return when we were suddenly startled by 
heavy firing. The ambulance driver was much ex- 
cited, and began to pour forth in broken English a 
torrent of abuse of the Confederacy. As we were 
near home, we kept silence, thinking that, if he grew 
more offensive, we could leave him and walk. Mrs. 
Bland undertook to reason with him. 

" What is your grievance ? " she inquired. " Per- 
haps we might see the colonel and arrange a better 
place for you — some transfer, perhaps." 

" Nevare ! nevare ! " said our man, " I transfare 
to my own koontree ! I make what you call — 
1 desairt.' Mon Dieu ! dey now tell me I fight for 
neeger ! Frenshman nevare fight for neeger." 

All this time the guns were booming away, and 
clouds of smoke were drifting toward us. We were 
glad to arrive at my door. 

It was closed. There was not a soul in the house. 
One of the chimneys had been knocked down, and 
the bricks lay in a heap on the grass. I thought of 



282 



Reminiscences of Peace and War 



Mr. Campbell's bomb-proof cellar; there we found 
my children, and there we remained until the par- 
oxysmal shelling ceased. 

One night, after a long, hot day, we were so tired 
we slept soundly. I was awakened by Eliza Page, 
standing trembling beside me. She pulled me out 
of bed and hurriedly turned to throw blankets 
around the children. The furies were let loose ! 
The house was literally shaking with the concussion 
from the heavy guns. We were in the street, on our 
way to our bomb-proof cellar, when a shell burst not 
more than fifty feet before us. Fire and fragments 
rose like a fountain in the air and fell in a shower 
around us. Not one of my little family was hurt. 

Another time a shell fell in our own yard and 
buried itself in the earth. My baby was not far 
away, in her nurse's arms. The little creature was 
fascinated by the shells. The first word she ever 
uttered was an attempt to imitate them. " Yonder 
comes that bird with the broken wing," the servants 
would say. The shells made a fluttering sound as 
they traversed the air, descending with a frightful 
hiss, to explode or be buried in the earth. When 
they exploded in midair by day, a puff of smoke, 
white as an angel's wing, would drift away, and the 
particles would patter down like hail. At night, 
the track of the shell and its explosion were pre- 
cisely similar in sound, although not in degree, to 
our Fourth of July rockets, except that they were 
fired, not upward, but in a slanting direction. I 
never felt afraid of them ! I was brought up to be- 
lieve in predestination. Courage, after all, is much 



A Dead Mule and Meat Pies 283 

a matter of nerves. My neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. 
Gibson and Mrs. Meade, agreed with me, and we 
calmly elected to remain in town. There was no 
place of safety accessible to us. Mr. Branch 
removed his family, and, as far as I knew, none 
other of my friends remained throughout the 
summer. 

Not far from the door ran a sunken street, with a 
hill, through which it was cut, rising each side of it. 
Into this hill the negroes burrowed, hollowing out a 
small space, where they sat all day on mats, knitting, 
and selling small cakes made of sorghum and flour, 
and little round meat pies. I might have been 
tempted to invest in the latter except for a slight 
circumstance. I saw a dead mule lying on the 
common, and out of its side had been cut a very 
neat, square chunk of flesh ! 

With all our starvation we never ate rats, mice, or 
mule-meat. We managed to exist on peas, bread, 
and sorghum. We could buy a little milk, and we 
mixed it with a drink made from roasted and ground 
corn. The latter, in the grain, was scarce. Mr. 
Campbell's children picked up the grains wherever 
the army horses were fed. 

My little boys never complained, but Theo, who 
had insisted upon returning to me from his uncle's 
safe home in the country, said one day : " Mamma, 
I have a queer feeling in my stomach ! Oh, no ! it 
doesn't ache the least bit, but it feels like a nut- 
meg grater." 

Poor little laddie ! His machinery needed oiling. 
And pretty soon his small brother fell ill with fever. 



284 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

My blessed Dr. Withers obtained a permit for me 
to get a pint of soup every day from the hospital, 
and one day there was a joyful discovery. In the 
soup was a drumstick of chicken ! 

" I cert'nly hope I'll not get well," the little man 
shocked me by saying. 

" Oh, is it as bad as that ? " I sighed. 

" Why," he replied, " my soup will be stopped if 
I get better ! " 

Just at this juncture, when things were as bad 
as could be, my husband brought home to tea the 
Hon. Pierre Soule, General D. H. Hill, and Gen- 
eral Longstreet. I had bread and a little tea, the 
latter served in a yellow pitcher without a handle. 
Mrs. Campbell, hearing of my necessity, sent me a 
small piece of bacon. 

When we assembled around the table, I lifted my 
hot pitcher by means of a napkin, and offered my 
tea, pure and simple, allowing the guests to use their 
discretion in regard to a spoonful or two of very 
dark brown sugar. 

" This is a great luxury, Madam," said Mr. Soule, 
with one of his gracious bows, " a good cup of tea." 

We talked that night of all that was going wrong 
with our country, of the good men who were con- 
stantly relieved of their commands, of all the mis- 
takes we were making. 

" Mistakes ! " said General Hill, bringing his 
clinched fist down upon the table, " I could forgive 
mistakes ! I cannot forgive lies ! I could get along 
if we could only^ only ever learn the truth, the real 
truth." But he was very personal and used much 
stronger words than these. 



The Battle of Port Walthall 285 

They talked and talked, these veterans and the 
charming, accomplished diplomat, until one of them 
inquired the hour. I raised a curtain. 

"Gentlemen," I said, "the sun is rising. You 
must now breakfast with us." They declined. They 
had supped ! 

I had the misfortune early in June to fall ill, with 
one of the sudden, violent fevers which cannot be 
arrested, but must " run its course " for a certain 
number of days. I was delirious from this fever, 
and wild with the idea that a battle was raging 
within hearing. I fancied I could hear the ring of 
the musket as it was loaded ! Possibly my quick- 
ened senses had really heard, for a fierce battle was 
going on at Port Walthall, a station on the Rich- 
mond and Petersburg railroad, six miles distant. 
General Butler had landed at Bermuda Hundred 
and had been sent by General Grant to lead a 
column against Richmond on the south side of the 
James and to cooperate with forces from the Wil- 
derness. Butler had reached Swift Creek, there to 
be met by General Johnston, and repulsed as 
far as Walthall Junction on the railroad. The 
following day there was a hotly contested battle at 
close quarters, continued on the next, when our 
men, although greatly outnumbered by Butler's 
forces, drove these back to their base on the James 
River. All this time my excited visions were of 
battle and soldiers, culminating at last by the pres- 
ence of one soldier, leaning wearily on his sabre in 
my own room. I did not recognize the soldier, but 
memory still holds his attitude of grief as he looked 



286 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

at me, and the sound of his voice as he answered 
my question, " Where have you been all this time ? " 
with, " In more peril than in all my life before." 

But the fever crisis was passing even then, and 
I was soon well enough to learn more. This was 
another of the well-planned schemes for taking Rich- 
mond, another of the failures which drew from 
Lincoln the gravely humorous reply, when ap- 
plication was made to him for a pass to go to 
Richmond : — 

" I don't know about that ; I have given passes 
to about two hundred and fifty thousand men to go 
there during the last two or three years, and not one 
of them has got there yet." 

Dr. Claiborne went out to this Walthall battle-field 
to help the wounded, taking with him surgeons and 
ambulances. A dreadful sight awaited him. Bodies 
of dead men, Federal and Confederate, lay piled to- 
gether in heaps. On removing some of these to 
discover if any one of them might be still alive, a 
paper dropped from the pocket of a young lieu- 
tenant, written in German to a lady in Bremen. 
Upon reading it, Dr. Claiborne found it was ad- 
dressed to his betrothed. He told her that his term 
of service having expired, he would soon leave for 
New York City, and he gave her the street and num- 
ber where she should meet him on her arrival in this 
country. This was his last fight, into which he went 
no doubt voluntarily, as he was about to leave the 
army. Doubtless the blue-eyed Mddchen looked 
long for him on the banks of the Weser ! The doc- 
tor indorsed the sad news on the letter, and sent it 



Confederate Gallantry goes Unrewarded 287 

through the lines. Perhaps it reached her, or per- 
haps she is telling her story this day to other blue 
eyes on the Weser, eyes that look up and wonder 
she could ever have been young, lovely, and the 
promised bride of a gallant Union officer. 

The Confederate government utterly neglected 
the praise and distinction so freely awarded by other 
nations in time of war, for deeds of gallantry and 
valor. Says Major Stiles : " Not only did I never 
see or hear of a promotion on the field, but I do not 
believe such a thing ever occurred in any army of 
the Confederacy from the beginning to the end of 
the war. Indeed, I am confident it never did ; for, 
incredible as it may appear, even Lee himself did 
not have the power to make such promotion. I 
never saw or heard of a medal or a ribbon being 
pinned on a man's jacket, or even so much as a 
man's name being read out publicly in orders of 
gallantry in battle." * 

Hanging in my husband's library, among other 
war relics, is a heavy silver medal, representing in 
high relief a soldier charging a cannon. On the 
obverse side is a laurel wreath, space for a name, 
and the words, " Distinguished for courage : U. S. 
Colored Troops." No such medal was ever given 
by our government to its hardly used, poorly paid 
private soldiers. Some of them fought through the 
war. They starved and froze in the trenches dur- 
ing that last dreadful winter, but no precious star or 
ribbon was awarded, to be hung with the sabre or 
musket and venerated by generations yet to come. 

1,4 Four Years with Marse Robert," p. 341. 



288 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Among my few preserved papers I have two in 
faded ink. One is signed Bushrod Johnston, the 
other D. H. Hill. The latter says: "The victory 
at Walthall Junction was greatly due to General 
Roger A. Pryor. But for him it is probable we 
might have been surprised and defeated." The 
other from General Johnston runs at length : " At 
the most critical juncture General Roger A. Pryor 
rendered me most valuable service, displaying great 
zeal, energy, and gallantry in reconnoitring the posi- 
tions of the enemy, arranging my line of battle, and 
rendering successful the operations and movements 
of the conflict." At General Johnston's request my 
husband served with him during the midsummer. 
Such letters I have in lieu of medal or ribbon, — a 
part only of much of similar nature ; but less was 
given to many a man who as fitly deserved recognition. 

My General, who had been in active service in all 
the events around Petersburg, was now requested by 
General Lee to take with him a small squad of men, 
and learn something of the movements of the enemy. 

" Grant knows all about me," he said, " and I 
know too little about Grant. You were a school- 
boy here, General, and have hunted in all the by- 
paths around Petersburg. Knowing the country 
better than any of us, you are the best man for this 
important duty." 

Accordingly, armed with a pass from General Lee, 
my husband set forth on his perilous scouting 
expedition, sometimes being absent a week at a time. 
One morning, very early, he entered my room. 

" I am dead for want of sleep," he said. " I was 



Breakfast for Federal Prisoners 289 

obliged to take some prisoners. They are coming 
in under guard, and you must give them a good 
breakfast." As he walked out of the room to find a 
quiet corner, he called back, " Be sure, now ! Feed 
my prisoners, if all the rest of us lose our breakfast." 

He had suggested the only way in which he could 
be obeyed. 

Five forlorn blue-coated soldiers soon appeared, 
and lay down under the trees. Presently they were 
all asleep. I called my little family together. We 
had only a small pail of meal. Would they be will- 
ing to give it to these poor prisoners ? 

They were willing, never fear ; but I had trouble 
with John. He grew very sullen when I ordered 
him to bake the bread for Yankee prisoners in five 
small loaves. I promised to send out for more pro- 
visions later, and finally he yielded, but with an ill 
grace. When the hot loaves were on the table, 
flanked by sweetened corn-coffee, I deputed Paterson 
Gibson, my neighbor's kindly young son, to waken 
my guests. This was no easy matter. 

" Come, now, Yank," said Pat, " get up and eat 
your breakfast. Come now ! Cheer up ! We'll 
send you home pretty soon." 

We left them alone at their repast. It occurred 
to me they might try to escape, and I heartily 
wished they would. But after an hour they were 
marched away, we knew not whither. 

On July 30th occurred the dreadful explosion of 
the mine which the enemy had tunnelled under our 
line of fortifications. 

A little after four in the morning the city was 
u 



290 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

roused by the most awful thunder — like nothing I 
can imagine, except, perhaps, the sudden eruption of a 
volcano. This was the explosion of a mine tunnelled 
by General Grant under our works. Instantly the 
unhappy residents of the town poured into the 
street and out on the road, anywhere to escape 
what we supposed to be an earthquake. No words 
can adequately describe this horror ! We lost a 
part of our line. Colonel Paul, a member of 
Beauregard's staff, was sent to inform General Lee 
of the disaster, and bore back his orders that the 
line must be at once recaptured. As the colonel 
passed his father's house, he ran in and found the 
old gentleman's hand on the bell-rope to summon 
his household to family prayers. 

" Stay, my son, and join us at prayers," said the 
old man. " Get some breakfast with your mother 
and me." The colonel could not pause. He 
must leave this peaceful home, and bear his part in 
protecting it. 

When the veterans meet to-day for their camp- 
fire talk, it is of the " battle of the Crater," the 
shocking incidents of which cannot be told to gentle 
ears, that they speak most frequently. The foun- 
tain of fire that shot up to heaven bore with it the 
dismembered bodies of man made in God's own 
image. Then infuriated men, black and white, leaped 
into the chasm and mingled in an orgy of carnage. 
No one has ever built on that field. Nature smooths 
its scars with her gentle hand, but no dwelling of man 
will ever rest there while this tragedy is remembered. 

On May 3d, 1887, Federal and Confederate vet- 



The Battle of the Crater 291 

erans met on this spot and clasped hands together. 
Since then the Confederates have met there again 
and again. Each one has some story to tell of 
heroism, of devotion, and the stories are not always 
tragic. Some of them have been gleaned from the 
experiences of the boys in blue. 

Lieutenant Bowley of the Northern army de- 
livered an address before the California commandery 
of the Loyal Legion of the United States, and 
quotes from the address of a negro preacher to his 
fellows just before the explosion of the crater. He 
was sergeant of a company of negroes, and thus 
exhorted them: — 

" Now, men, dis is gwine to be a gret fight, de 
gretest we seen yit ; gret things is 'pending on dis 
fight ; if we takes Petersburg, raos' likely we'll take 
Richmond an' 'stroy Lee's army an' close de wah. 
Eb'ry man had orter liff up his soul in pra'r for a 
strong heart. Oh ! 'member de pore colored people 
ober dere in bondage. Oh ! 'member dat Gin'ral 
Grant an' Gin'ral Burnside an' Gin'ral Meade an' 
all de gret gin'rals is right ober yander a watchin' ye; 
an' 'member V se a watchin' ye an 'any skulker is a 
gwine ter git a prod ob dis ba'net — you heah me ! " 

Words than which, except for the closing sentence, 
I know none more pathetic. 



CHAPTER XIX 



BEHIND LEE S LINES 



TH E month of August in the besieged city passed 
like a dream of terror. The weather was 
intensely hot and dry, varied by storms of 
thunder and lightning — when the very heavens 
seemed in league with the -thunderbolts of the 
enemy. Our region was not shelled continuously. 
One shot from " our own gun," as we learned to 
call it, would be fired as if to let us know our places ; 
this challenge would be answered from one of our 
batteries, and the two would thunder away for five 
or six hours. We always sought shelter in Mr. 
Campbell's bomb-proof cellar at such times, and the 
negroes would run to their own " bum-proofs," as 
they termed the cells hollowed under the hill. 

Agnes wrote from Richmond, August 2,6, 1 864 : — 

" You dear, obstinate little woman ! What did I tell 
you ? I implored you to get away while you could, and 
now you are waiting placidly for General Grant to blow 
you up. That awful crater ! Do the officers around you 
consider it honorable warfare to dig and mine under a 
man and blow him up while he is asleep — before he has 
time to get his musket ? I always thought an open field 
and a fair fight, with the enemy in front at equal chances, 

292 



A Letter from Richmond 293 

was the American idea of honest, manly warfare. To 
my mind this is the most awful thing that could be imag- 
ined. There is a strong feeling among the people I meet 
that the hour has come when we should consider the lives 
of the few men left to us. Why let the enemy wipe us 
off the face of the earth? Should this feeling grow, noth- 
ing but a great victory can stop it. Don't you remember 
what Mr. Hunter said to us in Washington ? ' You may 
sooner check with your bare hand the torrent of Niagara 
than stop this tidal wave of secession.' / am for a tidal 
wave of peace — and I am not alone. Meanwhile we 
are slowly starving to death. Here, in Richmond, if we 
can afford to give $11 for a pound of bacon, $10 for a 
small dish of green corn, and $10 for a watermelon, we 
can have a dinner of three courses for four persons. Hamp- 
ton's cavalry passed through town last week, amid great 
excitement. Every man as he trotted by was cutting and 
eating a watermelon, and throwing the rinds on the heads 
of the little negro boys who followed in crowds on either 
side of the street. You wouldn't have dreamed of war — 
such shouting and laughing from everybody. The con- 
trasts we constantly see look like insanity in our people. 
The President likes to call attention to the fact that we 
have no beggars on our streets, as evidence that things are 
not yet desperate with us. He forgets our bread riot which 
occurred such a little while ago. That pale, thin woman 
with the wan smile haunts me. Ah ! these are the people 
who suffer the consequence of all that talk about slavery in 
the territories you and I used to hear in the House and 
Senate Chamber. Somebody, somewhere, is mightily to 
blame for all this business, but it isn't you nor I, nor yet 
the women who did not really deserve to have Governor 
Letcher send the mayor to read the Riot Act to them. 
They were only hungry, and so a thousand of them loaded 
some carts with bread for their children. You are not to 



294 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

suppose I am heartless because I run on in this irrelevant 
fashion. The truth is, I am so shocked and disturbed I am 
hysterical. It is all so awful. 

" Your scared-to-death 

"Agnes." 

My husband sent me a note by his courier, one 
hot August day, to tell me that his old aide, Captain 
Whitner, having been wounded, was now discharged 
from the hospital, but was much too weak for ser- 
vice in the trenches, so he had obtained for the cap- 
tain leave of absence for two weeks, and had sent 
him to me to be built up. On the moment the sick 
man appeared in an ambulance. I was glad to see 
him, but a gaunt spectre arose before my imagina- 
tion and sternly suggested : " Built up, forsooth ! 
And pray, what are you to build him up with ? 
You can no more make a man without food than 
the Israelites could make bricks without straw." 

However, the captain had brought a ration of 
bacon and meal, with promise of more to come. I 
bethought me of the flourishing garden of my neigh- 
bor, whose onions and beets were daily gathered for 
her own family. I wrote a very pathetic appeal for 
my wounded Confederate soldier, now threatened 
with scurvy for want of fresh food, and I fully ex- 
pected she would be moved by my eloquence and 
her own patriotism to grant me a daily portion from 
her garden. She answered that she would agree to 
send me a dish of vegetables fourteen days for four- 
teen dollars. Gold was then selling at the rate of 
twenty-five dollars in our paper currency for one 
dollar in gold, so the dish was not a very costly one. 



A Dead Officer brought in at Night 295 

But when it appeared it was a very small dish indeed, 
— two beets or four onions. Homoeopathic as were 
the remedial agents, they helped to cure the captain. 

One morning, late in August, Eliza came early to 
my bedside. I started up in alarm. 

" Shelling again ? " I asked her. 

" Worse," said Eliza. 

"Tell me, tell me quick — is the General — " 

"No, no, honey," said my kind nurse, laying a 
detaining hand upon me. " You cert'nly sleep 
sound ! Didn't you hear a stir downstairs in the 
night ? Well, about midnight somebody hallooed 
to the kitchen, and John ran out. There stood a 
man on horseback and a dead soldier lying before 
him on the saddle. He said to John, ' Boy, I know 
General Pryor would not refuse to take in my dead 
brother.' 

" John ran up to my room and asked me what he 
must do. ' Take him in,' I told him. c Marse 
Roger will never forgive you if you turn him away.' " 

" You were perfectly right," I said, beginning to 
dress myself. " Where is he ? " 

"In the parlor," said Eliza. "He had a man- 
servant with him. John brought in his own cot, 
and he is lying on it. His brother is in there, and 
his man, both of them." 

The children were hushed by their nurse's story, 
and gathered under the shade in the yard. When 
breakfast was served, I sent John to invite my guest 
in. He returned with answer that " the captain 
don' feel like eatin' nothin'." 

" Captain ? " I asked. 






296 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" No'm, he ain't a captain, but his dead brother 
was. He was Captain Spann of South Carolina or 
Georgia, I forget which. His man came into the 
kitchen for hot water to shave his dead master, but 
I didn't ask many questions 'cause I saw he was 
troubled." 

I went out to my ever blooming rose and found 
it full of cool, dewy blossoms. I cut an armful, 
and knocked at the parlor door myself. It was 
opened by a haggard, weary-looking soldier, who 
burst into tears at seeing me. I took his hand and 
essayed to lead him forth, but he brokenly begged 
I would place the roses upon his brother's breast. 
" Will you, for the sake of his poor wife and 
mother ? " 

Very calm was the face of the dead officer. His 
servant and his brother had shaven and cared for 
him. His dark hair was brushed from a noble 
brow, and I could see that his features were regular 
and refined. 

I persuaded the lonely watcher to go with John 
to an upper room, to bathe and rest a few minutes ; 
but he soon descended and joined us at our frugal 
breakfast, and then Mr. Gibson, my good rector, 
came in to help and advise, and in the evening my 
husband returned, much gratified that we had re- 
ceived and comforted the poor fellow. 

As August drew to a close, I began to perceive 
that I could no longer endure the recurrence of such 
scenes; and I learned with great relief that my 
brother-in-law h? d moved his family to North Car- 
olina and had placed Cottage Farm, three miles 



Flight from the Besieged City 297 

distant from the besieged city, at my disposal. 
Accordingly, I wrote to General Bushrod Johnston, 
requesting an army wagon to be sent me early the 
next morning, and all night was spent in packing 
and preparing to leave. I had collected needful 
furniture when I moved into town eight months 
before. 

The wagon did not come at the specified hour. 
All day we waited, all the next night (without our 
beds), and the next day. As I looked out of the 
window in the twilight, hoping and watching, the 
cannonading commenced with vigor, and a line of 
shells rose in the air, describing luminous curves 
and breaking into showers of fragments. Our gun 
will be next, I thought, and for the first time my 
strength forsook me, and I wept over the hopeless 
doom which seemed to await us. Just then I heard 
the wheels below my window, and there was my 
wagon with four horses. 

We were all bestowed, bag and baggage, in a few 
minutes, and were soon safely beyond shell fire. I 
did not know until then how great had been the 
strain of keeping up under fire for three months. 
I literally " went all to pieces," trembling as though 
I had a chill. When we arrived at Cottage Farm, 
my driver allowed John, Eliza, and my little boys to 
unload in the road before the lawn, and then calmly 
turned his horses' heads and drove away. 

It was nine o'clock, we had no lights, we had no 
strength to lift our packages into the house. John 
advised that he should remain on guard during the 
night, and that some blankets should be spread for 






298 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

us in the cottage, and we proceeded to carry out 
this plan. In a few minutes, however, half a dozen 
soldiers came up, and one of their officers pleasantly 
greeted us as " welcome neighbors," for their com- 
pany was encamped near us. They had seen our 
plight and had come to " set things to rights," also 
to assure us of protection. 

About twelve o'clock we found ourselves comfort- 
able. Our beds were put up, our boxes were 
all under cover. John's commissariat yielded some 
biscuits, there was a well of pure water near the 
door. We were safe. We could sleep. No shell 
could reach us ! 

The cool freshness of a lovely September morn- 
ing filled our hearts with life and hope. A large 
circle of flowers, chrysanthemums, dahlias, and late- 
blooming roses surrounded the carriage drive to the 
door, a green lawn stretched to the limits of a large 
yard in the rear, and beyond this a garden with a 
few potatoes to dig, and an apple tree in fruit which 
the soldiers had respected. John and the little 
boys were in fine spirits. They laid plans for a 
cow, chickens, ducks, and pigeons. The cow was 
purchased at once from a neighboring farmer, was 
named Rose, and was installed in a shelter attached 
to the kitchen, where John could protect her from 
marauders. 

" 'Cause," said John, " I knows soldiers! They 
get up before day and milk your cow under your 
very eyebrows. Ain't you hear about Gen'al Lee 
in Pennsylvania? The old Dutch farmers gave him 
Hail Columbia because his soldiers milked their 



Uncle Frank and Aunt Jinny 299 

cows. Gen'al Lee could keep 'em from stealin' 
horses, but the queen o' England herself couldn't 
stop a soldier when he hankers after milk. An' he 
don't need no pail, neither; he can milk in his can- 
teen an' never spill a drop." 

My brother had left two old family servants, 
" Uncle Frank " and his wife "Aunt Jinny," as care- 
takers of the premises ; and to their dignified bear- 
ing, supplemented by the presence of a company of 
honorable soldiers, we were indebted for the un- 
rifled apple tree and the tiny potatoes, like marbles, 
left after the autumn digging. " Aunt Jinny " also 
had a few fowls. An egg for my baby was now 
possible. 

Her faithful Christian character had won for her 
a high place in the esteem of the family. Uncle 
Frank's manners were perfect, — polished, suave, and 
conciliatory; but when judge and jury sat upon the 
case of a culprit arraigned by him, his testimony 
was apt to be challenged by' his prisoner. 

" You knows, Marse Robert, you can't b'lieve 
ole Uncle Frank ! " 

" Frank always knows what he is talking about ! 
He is only more polite than the rest of you." 

" Well, Marse Robert, Gawd knows I hates to 
fling dut at Uncle Frank, but he's a liar. He 
sholy is ! An' jist 'cause he's a sweet liar he gets we 
all in trouble." 

My father, the chaplain, soon joined us, his corps 
having camped within riding distance. There was 
an office in the yard, and there my father took up 
his abode. His life was an active one among the 



300 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

soldiers, and he was often absent for days at a time ; 
but I felt the protection of his occasional presence. 

My husband was now employed, day and night, 
often in peril, gleaning from every possible source 
information for General Lee. 

One day Theo and Roger ran in with stirring 
news. They had seen General Lee dismount at 
Mr. Turnbull's, a short distance on the road 
beyond us, and had learned from Mr. Turnbull 
himself that his house had been given to General 
Lee for his headquarters, also that the General did 
not require Mr. and Mrs. Turnbull to leave, and 
that they were delighted to have the General. 

The whole face of the earth seemed to change 
immediately. Army wagons crawled unceasingly 
along the highroad, just in front of our gate. All 
was stir and life in the rear, where there was another 
country road, and a short road connecting the two 
passed immediately by the well near our house. 
This, too, was constantly travelled ; the whir of the 
well-wheel never seemed to pause, day or night. 
We soon had pleasant visitors, General A. P. Hill, 
Colonel William Pegram, General Walker, General 
Wilcox, and others. General Wilcox, an old friend 
and comrade, craved permission to make his head- 
quarters on the green lawn in the rear of the house, 
and my husband rejoiced at his presence and pro- 
tection for our little family. 

In less than twenty-four hours I found myself 
in the centre of a camp. The white tents of Gen- 
eral Wilcox's staff officers were stretched close to the 
door. 



Household Gods set up at Cottage Farm 301 

When we left Washington, our library and pic- 
tures had been sent to Petersburg, and had remained 
there in a warehouse ever since. My father eagerly 
advised us to set up the library and hang the pic- 
tures in our new home at Cottage Farm. 

" But suppose General Lee moves away," I 
suggested. 

" My dear, he will not move away ! He is here 
to protect Petersburg and Richmond. He will 
never surrender either place — and, as I have tried 
to impress upon you, the safest place for you on 
this continent is in the rear of Lee's army." 

So timber was brought for shelving the dining 
room, and three thousand or more books were 
arranged on the shelves. The parlor and the two 
bedrooms (we had no more in the little cottage) 
were hung with the pictures bought by my husband 
when he was Minister to Greece. My favorite — 
the Raffaello Morghen proof impression of the " Ma- 
donna della Seggiola " — hung over the mantel in 
the parlor, and to it I lifted weary eyes many a time 
during the remaining days of the war. Sundry 
delicate carvings were also in the boxes, with my 
music. My sister had not taken her piano with her 
to North Carolina. There were a baby-house and 
toys in another box, and in a French trunk with 
many compartments some evening dresses, at which 
I did not even glance, well knowing I should not 
need them. The trunk containing them was stored 
'n the cellar. 

We were happier than we had been for a long time. 
Things seemed to promise a little respite. To be 



30-2 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

sure, Grant's army was in front of us ; but if we 
could only avoid a collision for a month or two, the 
troops on both sides would go into winter quarters, 
and everybody would have the rest so much needed 
to fit them for the spring campaign. 

" We are here for eight years, — not a day less," 
said my father, and he fully believed it. 

That being the case, it behooved me to look after 
the little boys' education. School books were found 
for them. I knew " little Latin and less Greek," but 
I gravely heard them recite lessons in the former ; 
and they never discovered the midnight darkness of 
my mind as to mathematics. 

I knew nothing of the strong line of fortifications 
which General Grant was building at the back of the 
farm, fortifications strengthened by forts at short 
intervals. Our own line — visible from the garden 
— had fewer forts, two of which, Fort Gregg and 
Battery 45, protected our immediate neighborhood. 
These forts occasionally answered a challenge, but 
there was no attempt at a sally on either side. 

The most painful circumstance connected with 
our position was the picket firing at night, incessant, 
like the dropping of hail, and harrowing from the 
apprehension that many a man fell from the fire of 
a picket. But, perhaps to reassure me, Captain 
Lindsay and Captain Glover of General Wilcox's 
staff declared that " pickets have a good time. 
They fire, yes, for that is their business ; but 
while they load for the next volley, one will call 
out, ' Hello, Reb,' be answered, c Hello, Yank,' and 
little parcels of coffee are thrown across in exchange 



Stories about Friendly Pickets 303 

for a plug of tobacco." After accepting this fiction 
I could sleep better. 

Nothing could better illustrate the fact that this 
war was not a war of the men at the guns, than one 
of General John B. Gordon's anecdotes. 1 

A short distance from Blandford was the strong 
work on the Federal line called Fort Steadman. It 
was determined to take this by assault. There were 
obstructions in front of our lines which had to be re- 
moved. The lines were so close this could only be 
done under cover of darkness. Then there were 
obstructions to be removed from the front of Fort 
Steadman, and an immediate rush to be made before 
the gunners could fire. 

This delicate and hazardous duty was successfully 
performed by General Gordon, near the close of 
the war, and was the last time the stars and bars 
were carried to aggressive assault. 

About four o'clock in the morning our axemen 
were quietly at work on our obstacle when the un- 
avoidable noise attracted the notice of a Federal 
picket. In the black darkness he called out: — 

" Hello there, Johnny Reb ! What are you 
making all that fuss about over there ? " 

Our men were leaning forward for the start, and 
General Gordon was for a moment disconcerted ; but 
a rifleman answered in a cheerful voice : — 

" Oh, never mind us, Yank ! Lie down and go 
to sleep ! We are just gathering a little corn ; you 
know rations are mighty short over here ! " 

There was a patch of corn between the lines, some 

1 "Camp-fire and Battle-field," p. 489. 



304 Reminiscences' of Peace and War 

still hanging on the stalks. After a few moments 
there came back the kindly reply of the Yankee 
picket: — 

" All right, Johnny, go ahead and get your corn. 
I won't shoot at you." 

General Gordon was about to give the command 
to go forward, when the rifleman showed some com- 
punctions of conscience for having used deception 
which might result in the picket's death, by calling 
out loudly : — 

" Look out for yourself now, Yank ! We're 
going to shell the woods." 

Such exhibitions of true kindness and comradeship 
were not uncommon during the war. 

On a hill a short distance off was the farmhouse 
of "old Billy Green," as he was known to his 
neighbors. He had a good wife, kind to me and to 
everybody, and a fine-looking, amiable daughter, 
Nannie Green. These were my only female ac- 
quaintances. Nannie soon became an out-and-out 
belle — the only young lady in the neighborhood. 
Tender songs were paraphrased in her honor ; Ben 
Bolt's Sweet Alice became " Sweet Nannie," and 
" Sweet Annie of the Vale " easily became " Sweet 
Nannie of the Hill." I was very stern with the 
young officers around me, about Nannie Green. 
She was a modest, dignified girl, and I did not 
intend to have her spoiled, nor her father ridi- 
culed. 

I found some cut-glass champagne glasses in one 
of my boxes. Every night a request would come 
from Captain Lindsay, or Captain Glover, or some 



Nannie Green 305 

other of my staff tenants, for a champagne glass. 
At last I asked: — 

" Why do you limit yourselves to one glass ? " 

" Oh, we don't drink from it. We have no wine, 
you know." 

It appeared upon investigation that they cut pro- 
file pictures of Nannie Green out of paper, laid this 
cut paper on another, weighting it down with bullets, 
and turned the glass over it. As they sat around 
the table smoking, each one would lift a little edge 
of the glass and blow the smoke under it, shutting 
down quickly. When the smoking was over, and 
glass and paper were lifted, there was a pure white 
silhouette of Nannie's face on an amber-colored 
background, cameo-like in effect. The face would 
be delicately shaded, soulful eyes added, and — 
voila ! 

"Why was I not to know this?" I asked sternly. 

" Because we feared you would lend us no more 
glasses." 

" So it appears you all have a young lady's picture 
without her consent? " 

" Why not ? " they pleaded. " Isn't she perfectly 
welcome to ours ? " 

"Do you expect her to exchange, for something 
she doesn't want, something which you do want?" 

" Well, we think she might," said one, ruefully. 
" If her shadow can comfort a poor fellow's cold and 
lonely evening, she might spare it. She can't 
possibly miss it." 

I never refused to lend them the glasses. 



CHAPTER XX 

ARRIVING AT EXTREMITIES 

MY husband's duties kept him from home 
several days at a time during the early- 
autumn, but now that the lines were drawn 
so closely together, he could usually return to us 
after reporting to General Lee at night. I had 
ceased to feel anxious when he rode away in the 
morning on his gray horse, Jubal Early. Jubal had 
brought him safely through many a difficulty. Once 
he found himself suddenly confronted by a small 
company of Federals aligned for drill. He saluted, 
as if he were an officer on inspection, rode gravely 
past the line, and then Jubal's fleet feet dashed quite 
out of range before the volley which followed the 
discovery of his ruse. 

One frosty morning I was writing letters, — to 
Agnes, to my mother, to my little girls in Char- 
lotte, expressing the gratitude of my heart for the 
' new blessings of the hour, — when General Wilcox 
entered, and took his accustomed stand before the 
fire. 

" Madam," he commenced, " is the General at 
home ? " 

" No, General, he did not return last night." 

" You are not uneasy ? " 
306 



Capture of General Pryor 307 

" Not a bit. He sometimes stops at Mrs. Friend's 
when he is belated. She's his cousin, you know." 

" Of course ! " laughed the General. " All the 
pretty women in Virginia are cousins to the Vir- 
ginia officers. Couldn't you naturalize a few un- 
fortunates who were not born in Virginia ? " 

I was sealing and stamping my letters, and looked 
up without immediately answering his badinage. To 
my surprise his face was pale and his lip quivering. 

"You have to know it," said he. "The General 
will not return. The Yankees caught him this 
morning." 

" Oh, impossible ! " I exclaimed. "Jubal never 
fails." 

" Look out of the window," said the general. 

There stood Jubal ! A groom was removing his 
saddle. General Wilcox most kindly hastened to 
reassure me. " It will be all right," he declared. 
" A little rest for the General, and we will soon 
exchange him." 

I was completely stunned. I had never expected 
this. My head reeled. My heart sickened within 
me. 

As I sat thus, shivering beside the fire, I heard 
the clank of spurs, and looked up. An officer was 
at the door. 

" Madam," he said, " General Lee sends you his 
affectionate sympathies." 

Through the open window I saw the General on 
his horse, Traveller, standing at the well. He waited 
until his messenger returned, and then rode slowly 
toward the lines. 



308 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

I had small hope of the speedy exchange prom- 
ised me by General Wilcox. From day to day he 
reported the efforts made for my husband's release 
and their failure. General Lee authorized a letter 
to General Meade, detailing the circumstances of his 
capture and requesting his release. General Meade 
promptly refused to release him. 

We naturally looked to the enemy for all infor- 
mation, and although my husband had written me 
a pencilled note at City Point on the inside of a 
Confederate envelope, and had implored his guard 
(a Federal officer) to have it inserted in a New York 
paper, I did not receive it until thirty-one years 
afterward. We soon had news, however, through 
a despatch from the North Army Corps to the New 
York Herald. The paper of November 30, 1864, 
contained the following : — 

" Yesterday a rebel officer made his appearance in 
front of our lines, waving a paper for exchange. The 
officer in charge of the picket, suddenly remembering 
that Major Burrage, of the Thirty-sixth Massa- 
chusetts, was taken prisoner some time since by the 
enemy while on a similar errand, 'gobbled' the rebel, 
who proved to be the famous Roger A. Pryor, ex- 
member of Congress and ex-brigadier-general of Jeff 
Davis's army. He protested vehemently against 
what he styled a flagrant breach of faith on our part. 
He was assured he was taken in retaliation for like 
conduct on the part of his friends, and sent to Gen- 
eral Meade's headquarters for further disposition." 

Press despatch to Herald, November 30, from 
Washington, " Roger A. Pryor has been brought 



News of the General's Fate 309 

to Washington, and committed to the old Capitol 
Prison." 

Herald, December 1, 1864, " Pryor was ferried 
over to Fort Lafayette, where he is now confined." 

Then later I received a personal through The 
News: "To Mrs. R. A. Pryor. Your husband is 
in Fort Lafayette, where a friend and relative is per- 
mitted to visit him. — [Signed] Mary Rhodes." 

Not until December, 1864, could Colonel Ould 
arrange to have a letter from me sent through the 
lines. All letters from and to prisoners were exam- 
ined by Federal officials. 

On the 20th of December I received a brief note 
from Fort Lafayette: "My philosophy begins to 
fail somewhat. In vain I seek some argument of 
consolation. I see no chance of release. The con- 
ditions of my imprisonment cut me off from every 
resource of happiness." 

I learned afterward that he was ill, and under the 
care of a physician all winter, but he tried to write 
as encouragingly as possible. In February, how- 
ever, he failed in health and spirits, but bore up 
bravely : — 

" I am as contented as is compatible with my con- 
dition. My mind is ill at ease from my solicitude 
for my family and my country. Every disaster 
pierces my soul like an arrow ; and I am afflicted 
with the thought that I am denied the privilege of 

contributing even my mite to the deliverance of . 

How I envy my old comrades their hardships and 
privations. I have little hope of an early exchange, 
and you may be assured my mistrust is not without 



310 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

reason. Except some special instance be employed tt> 
procure my release, my detention here will be indefinite. 
I cannot be more explicit. While this is my con- 
viction, I wish it distinctly" understood that I would 
not have my government compromise any scruple 
for the sake of my liberation. I am prepared for 
any contingency — am fortified against any reverse 
of fortune." 

The problem now confronting me was this: How 
could I maintain my children and myself? My 
husband's rations were discontinued. My only 
supply of food was from my father's ration as chap- 
lain. I had a part of a barrel of flour which a rela- 
tive had sent me from a county now cut off from 
us. Quite a number of my old Washington servants 
had followed me, to escape the shelling, but they 
could not, of course, look to me for their support. 
I frankly told John and Eliza my condition, but 
they elected to remain. One day John presented 
himself with a heart-broken countenance and a 
drooping attitude of deep dejection. He had a sad 
story to tell. The agent of the estate to which 
he belonged was in town, and John had been 
commissioned to inform me that all the slaves be- 
longing to the estate were to be immediately trans- 
ferred to a Louisiana plantation for safety. Those 
of us who had hired these servants by the year were 
to be indemnified for our loss. 

" How do you feel about it, John ? " I asked. 

The poor fellow broke down. " It will kill me," 
he declared. " I'll soon die on that plantation." 

All his affectionate, faithful service, all his hard- 



Purchase of a Faithful Servant 311 

ships for our sakes, the Averill raid, rushed upon 
my memory. I bade him put me in communication 
with the agent. I found that I could save the boy 
only by buying him. A large sum of gold was named 
as the price. I unbuckled my girdle and counted 
my handful of gold — one hundred and six dollars. 
These I offered to the agent (who was a noted negro 
trader), and although it was far short of his figures, 
he made out my bill of sale receipted. 

When John appeared with smiling face he in- 
formed me with his thanks that he belonged to me. 

" You are a free man, John," I said. " I will make 
out your papers and I can very easily arrange for 
you to pass the lines." 

" I know that," he said. " Marse Roger has 
often told me I was a free man. I never will leave 
you till I die. Papers indeed ! Papers nothing ! I 
belong to you — that's where I belong." 

All that dreadful winter he was faithful to his 
promise, cheerfully bearing, without wages, all the 
privations of the time. Sometimes, when the last 
atom of food was gone, he would ask for money, 
sally forth with a horse and light cart, and bring in 
peas and dried apples. Once a week we were allowed 
to purchase the head of a bullock, horns and all, 
from the commissary ; and a small ration of rice was 
allowed us by the government. A one-armed boy, 
Alick, who had been reared in my father's family, 
now wandered in to find his old master, and installed 
himself as my father's servant. 

The question that pressed upon me day and night 
was: How, where, can I earn some money? to be 






312 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

answered by the frightful truth that there could be 
no opening for me anywhere, because I could not 
leave my children. 

One wakeful night, while I was revolving these 
things, a sudden thought darted, unbidden, into my 
sorely oppressed mind : — 

" Why not open the trunk from Washington ? 
Something may be found there which can be sold." 

At an early hour next morning John and Alick 
brought the trunk from the cellar. Aunt Jinny, 
Eliza, and the children gathered around. It proved 
to be full of my old Washington finery. There were 
a half-dozen or more white muslin gowns, flounced 
and trimmed with Valenciennes lace, many yards ; 
there was a rich bayadere silk gown trimmed fully 
with guipure lace ; a green silk dress with gold 
embroidery; a blue and silver brocade, — these last 
evening gowns. There was a paper box containing 
the shaded roses I had worn to Lady Napier's ball, 
the ball at which Mrs. Douglas and I had dressed 
alike in gowns of tulle. Another box held the gar- 
niture of green leaves and gold grapes which had 
belonged to the green silk ; and still another the 
blue and silver feathers for the brocade. An opera 
cloak trimmed with fur; a long purple velvet cloak; 
a purple velvet " coalscuttle" bonnet, trimmed with 
white roses ; a point lace handkerchief; Valenciennes 
lace; Brussels lace ; and at the bottom of the trunk 
a package of del blue zephyr, awakening reminis- 
cences of a passion which I had cherished for 
knitting shawls and " mariposas " of zephyr, — such 
was the collection I had discovered. 



Contents of a Trunk, and their Uses 313 

The velvet cloak had come to grief. Somebody 
had put the handsome books President Pierce had 
given me into this box, for special safe-keeping ; 
and all these years the cloak had cushioned the 
books so that they made no inroads upon the other 
articles, and had given up its own life in their pro- 
tection. Not an inch of the garment was ever fit 
for use. It was generously printed all over with the 
large cords and tassels of its own trimming. 

These were my materials. I must make them 
serve for the support of my family. 

I ripped all the lace from the evening gowns, and 
made it into collars and undersleeves. John found 
an extinct dry-goods store where clean paper boxes 
could be had. 

My first instalment of lace collars was sent to 
Price's store in Richmond and promptly sold. Mr. 
Price wrote me that all of my articles would find 
purchasers. There were ladies in Richmond who 
could afford to buy, and the Confederate court 
offered opportunities for display. 

Admiral Porter records the capture of a block- 
ade-runner whose valuable goods included many 
commissions for " ladies at court. In the cabin of 
the vessel," says the admiral, " was a pile of band- 
boxes in which were charming little bonnets marked 
with the owners' names. It would have given me 
much pleasure to have forwarded them to their des- 
tination " (the admiral had ever a weakness for 
Southern ladies) " but the laws forbade our giving 
aid and comfort to the enemy, so all the French 
bonnets, cloaks, shoes, and other feminine bric-a- 



314 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

brae had to go to New York for condemnation by 
the Admiralty Court, and were sold at public auction. 

" These bonnets, laces, and other vanities rather 
clashed with the idea I had formed of the Southern 
ladies, as I heard that all they owned went to the 
hospitals, and that they never spent a cent on their 
personal adornment ; but human nature," sagely 
opines the admiral, " is the same the world over, 
and ladies will indulge in their little vanities in spite 
of war and desolation." * To these vanities I now 
found myself indebted. 

The zeal with which I worked knew no pause. 

I needed no rest. General Wilcox, who was in the 

saddle until a late hour every night, said to me, 

" Your candle is the last light I see at night — the 

first in the morning." 

" I should never sleep," I told him. 

One day I consulted Eliza about the manufacture 
of a Confederate candle. We knew how to make 
it — by drawing a cotton rope many times through 
melted wax, and then winding it around a bottle. 
We could get wax, but our position was an exposed 
one. Soldiers' tents were close around us, and we 
scrupulously avoided any revelation of our needs, 
lest they should deny themselves for our sakes. 
Eliza thought we might avail ourselves of the ab- 
sence of the officers, and finish our work before 
they returned. We made our candle ; but that 
night, as I sat sewing beside its dim, glow-worm 
light, I heard a step in the hall, and a hand, hastily 
thrust out, placed a brown paper parcel on the 

1 Porter's "Anecdotes and Incidents of the Civil War," p. 274. 



Aunt Jinny takes Care of our Souls 315 

piano near the door. It was a soldier's ration of 
candles ! 

After I had converted all my laces into collars, 
cuffs, and sleeves, and had sold my silk gowns, 
opera cloak, and point lace handkerchiefs, I devoted 
myself to trimming the edges of the artificial flowers, 
and separating the long wreaths and garlands into 
clusters for hats and bouquets de corsage. 

Eliza and the children delighted in this phase of 
my work, and begged to assist, — all except Aunt 
Jinny. 

"Honey," she said, "don't you think, in these 
times of trouble, you might do better than tempt 
them po' young lambs in Richmond to worship the 
golden calf and bow down to mammon? We prays 
not to be led into temptation, and you sho'ly is 
leadin' 'em into vanity." 

" Maybe so, Aunt Jinny, but I must sell all I 

can. We have to be clothed, you know, war or no 

>> 
war. 

" Yes, my chile, that's so ; but we're told to con- 
sider the lilies. Gawd Almighty tells us we must 
clothe ourselves in the garment of righteousness, 
and He — " 

" You always 'pear to be mighty intimate with 
God A'mighty," interrupted Eliza, in great wrath. 
" Now you just go 'long home an' leave my mistis 
to her work. How would you look with nothin' on 
but a garment of righteousness ? " 

When I had stripped the pretty muslin gowns of 
their trimmings, what could be done with the gowns 
themselves ? Finally I resolved to embroider them 



3 1 6 Reminiscences' of Peace and War 

with the blue zephyr. I rolled the edges of the 
flounces, and edged them delicately with a spiral 
line of blue. I traced with blue a dainty vine of 
forget-me-nots on bodice and sleeves, with a result 
that was simply ravishing ! 

My first purchase was a barrel of flour, for which I 
paid thirteen hundred dollars. John made hot bis- 
cuits three times a day thereafter. As the winter wore 
on, and the starvation became stern in the army, a sol- 
dier would occasionally bring to the kitchen his ration 
of a small square of beef to be cooked, or eight grains 
of coffee to trade with John for a few biscuits. I 
sternly forbade the trade, and ordered John to grind 
the coffee in the owner's presence, mix it with our 
toasted corn, and give him the biscuits, with a good, 
strengthening drink. Often a brown hand would 
place a tiny bundle on the piano, as the donor passed 
through the hall, and my heart would ache to find 
it contained a soldier's ration of coffee. My dear 
father had friends among his old parishioners who 
never allowed him to do without his coffee — a neces- 
sity for a man who never, under any circumstances, 
fortified his strength with ardent spirits. He was 
almost fanatical on the total abstinence subject. 

Of course I could not command shoes for my 
boys. I made them of carpet lined with flannel for 
my baby. I could in one day make a pair which 
she wore out in three ! A piece of bronze morocco 
fell into my hands, of which I made a pair of boots 
for my little daughter, Mary, and out of an old 
leather pocket-book and two or three leather bags 
which Alick found in his prowling over the fields, a 



Capture of Rev. Theodorick Pryor 317 

soldier-shoemaker contrived shoes for each of the 
boys. 

My own prime necessity was for the steel we 
women wear in front of our stays. I suffered so 
much for want of this accustomed support, that 
Captain Lindsay had a pair made for me by the 
government gunsmith. 

The time came when the salable contents of the 
Washington trunk were all gone. I then cut up 
my husband's dress-coat, and designed well-fitting 
ladies' gloves, with gauntlets made of the watered 
silk lining. Of an interlining of gray flannel I made 
gray gloves, and this glove manufacture yielded 
me hundreds of dollars. Thirteen small fragments 
of flannel were left after the gloves were finished. 
Of these, pieced together, I made a pair of drawers 
for my Willy — my youngest boy. 

The lines around us were now so closely drawn 
that my father returned home after short absences 
of a day or two. But we were made anxious, dur- 
ing a heavy snow early in December, by a more 
prolonged absence. Finally he appeared, on foot, 
hatless, and exhausted. He had been captured by 
a party of cavalrymen. He had told them of his 
non-combatant position, but when he asked for re- 
lease, they shook their heads. At night they all 
prepared to bivouac upon the ground, assigned to 
him a sheltered spot, gave him a good supper and 
blankets, and left him to his repose. As the night 
wore on and all grew still, he raised his head cau- 
tiously to reconnoitre, and to his surprise found 
himself at some distance from the guard — but his 



3 1 8 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

horse tied to a tree within the circle around the fire. 
My father took the hint, and quietly walked away 
unchallenged. " Which proves, my dear," he said, 
" that a clergyman is not worth as much as a good 
horse in time of war." 



CHAPTER XXI 



A WINTER OF WANT 



1 RESOLVED to give my family a Christmas 
dinner. John invented a method of making 
a perfectly satisfactory pie out of sorghum 
molasses, thickened with a little flour, mixed with 
walnut meats, and baked in a "raised" crust. He 
prepared a number of these. I bought a piece of 
corned beef for fifty dollars. This was boiled with 
peas. But just as we were about to gather around 
the table, we saw a forlorn company of soldiers pass- 
ing the door. They had gone out on some raid a 
week before. The snow was falling fast, the soldiers 
walked wearily, with dejected countenances. " Boys," 
I said, " are you willing to send the dish of beef and 
peas out to them ? " They agreed, if only they 
might carry it ; and the brave little fellows liked 
the pleasure they gave more than they would have 
enjoyed the dinner. They were full of it for days 
afterward. 

We had grown very fond of some of the men 
around us, and my boys were so rich in their com- 
panionship, that they never complained of their pri- 
vations. They were good, wholesome comrades, 
interested in our books and in the boys' studies. 
Captain Lindsay and Captain Glover of General 

319 






320 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Wilcox's staff were great comforts. General A. P. 
Hill and Colonel William Pegram came often to see 
us. General Lee often passed the door on his way 
to the lines, and paused to inquire concerning our 
welfare. I established a little circulating library for 
dear Colonel Pegram and our own officers. The 
books were always faithfully returned, with warm 
thanks for the comfort they gave. 

The month of January brought us sleet and storm. 
Our famine grew sterner every day. Poor little 
Rose, my cow, could yield only one cupful of milk, 
so small was her ration ; but we never thought of 
turning the faithful animal into beef. The officers 
in my yard spared her something every day from the 
food of their horses. 

The days were so dark and cheerless, the news 
from the armies at a distance so discouraging, it was 
hard to preserve a cheerful demeanor for the sake 
of the family. And now began the alarming tidings, 
every morning, of the desertions during the night. 
General Wilcox wondered how long his brigade would 
hold together at the rate of fifty desertions every 
twenty-four hours. 

The common soldier had enlisted, not to establish 
the right of secession, not for love of the slave, — he 
had no slaves, — but simply to resist the invasion of 
the South by the North, simply to prevent sub- 
jugation. The soldier of the rank and file was not 
always intellectual or cultivated. He cared little for 
politics, less for slavery. He did care, however, 
for his own soil, his own little farm, his own humble 
home ; and he was willing to fight to drive the invader 



Desertion — but not to the Enemy 321 

from it. Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation did 
not stimulate him in the least. The negro, free or 
slave, was of no consequence to him. His quarrel 
was a sectional one, and he fought for his section. 

In any war, the masses rarely trouble themselves 
about the merits of the quarrel. Their pugnacity and 
courage are aroused and stimulated by the enthusiasm 
of their comrades, or by their own personal wrongs 
and perils. 

Now, in January, 1865, the common soldier per- 
ceived that the cause was lost. He could read its 
doom in the famine around him, in the faces of 
his officers, in tidings from abroad. His wife and 
children were suffering. His duty was now to them; 
so he stole away in the darkness, and, in infinite 
danger and difficulty, found his way back to his own 
fireside. He deserted, but not to the enemy. 

But what can we say of the soldier who remained 
unflinchingly at his post knowing the cause was lost 
for which he was called to meet death ? Heroism 
can attain no loftier height than this. 

Sir Charles Napier, 1 in his campaign against the 
robber tribes of Upper Scinde, found that the hills- 
men had a custom of binding, with a scarlet thread, 
the wrist of a leader who fell after some distinguished 
act of courage. They thus honored the hand that 
had wielded a valiant sword. 

A party of eleven English soldiers were once sepa- 
rated from their fellows, and mistook a signal for an 
order to charge. The brave fellows answered with 
a cheer. On a summit in front of them was a 

1 "Robertson's Life and Letters," edited by S. A. Brooke, p. 804. 
Y 



322 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

breastwork manned by seventy of the foe. On they 
went, charging up the fearful path, eleven against 
seventy. There could be but one result. When 
their comrades arrived to aid them, every one of the 
British soldiers was dead — and around both wrists 
of every one was twined the red thread ! 

And so I am sure that to every man who fell in 
that last hopeless fight, our brave foes will award the 
red badge of honor — as our own hearts will ever 
strive to deserve it for their sakes. 

The horror of military execution was now upon 
us. Nothing so distressed my father and myself. Fi- 
nally General Lee offered the men who had deserted 
a last opportunity to wipe out their disgrace and 
escape the punishment of their crimes. He granted, 
by authority of the government, amnesty to those 
who would report to the nearest officer on duty 
within twenty days, thus giving them the privilege 
of reentering the service in companies where they 
would not be known. 

" Let us," said the general, " oppose constancy 
to adversity, fortitude to suffering, and courage to 
danger, with the firm assurance that He who gave 
freedom to our fathers will bless the efforts of their 
children to preserve it." 

Alas ! few availed themselves of this solemn 
appeal to their manhood. 

Meanwhile we received occasional letters from our 
prisoner in Fort Lafayette. He was confined in a 
casemate with about twenty men. A small grate 
for burning coal sufficed for the preparation of their 
rations, which were issued to them raw. They lay 



A Psalm of Life 323 

upon straw mats on the floor. Once daily they 
could walk upon the ramparts, and my husband's 
eyes turned sadly to the dim outlines of the beauti- 
ful city where he had often been an honored guest. 
The veil which hid from him so much of the grief 
and struggle of the future hid also the reward. 
Little did he dream he should administer justice on 
the supreme bench of the mist-veiled city. 

His letters bore but one theme, his earnest prayer 
for exchange, so that he might do his part in our 
defence. 

One night all these things weighed more heavily 
than usual upon me, — the picket firing, the famine, 
the military executions, the dear one " sick and in 
prison." I sighed audibly, and my son, Theodo- 
rick, who slept near me, asked the cause, adding, 
" Why can you not sleep, dear mother ? " 

" Suppose," I replied, " you repeat something for 
me." 

He at once commenced, "Tell me not in mourn- 
ful numbers " — and repeated the " Psalm of Life." I 
did not sleep ; those brave words were not strong 
enough for the situation. 

He paused, and presently his young voice broke 
the stillness : — 

" Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is 
within me, bless His holy name" — going on to 
the end of the beautiful psalm of adoration and faith 
which nineteen centuries have decreed to be in very 
truth a Psalm of Life. 

I felt great responsibility in keeping with me my 
sons, now ten and twelve years old. At a farmhouse 



324 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

about fifteen miles in the country a member of the 
family was living, and availing myself of a passing 
wagon, I sent the boys to share his plenty and com- 
fort. A few days afterwards they returned — a 
dusty, footsore pair of urchins. They had run 
away and come home ! Moreover, they had found 
an old horse left on the roadside to die, — which 
Roger refused to leave, — had shared their luncheon 
with him, given him water, assisted him to his feet, 
and by slow stages led him home ! 

" Oh ! how shall we feed him ? " I exclaimed, in 
despair. 

"I'll help," said Captain Lindsay; "he shall be 
immediately introduced to my mare, and she shall 
share her oats with him ; " and a very sober-minded, 
steady horse he proved to be, quite good enough 
to be stolen, as he finally was, by the enemy. 

My friend, General Wilcox, put my own friendship 
to a severe test one morning. Standing by the 
mantel in his accustomed attitude, he informed me 
that he had received many kind attentions from the 
ladies of Petersburg (I was aware of an affair of the 
heart in which a pretty widow was concerned), and 
he proposed to give a dejeuner a la fourchette^ and 
invite them out to his tent. Would I chaperon 
the occasion, and might my parlor be used as a 
reception room ? 

" Of course, General ! " I replied. " They will 
be welcome to me, and to the parlor. The i four- 
chette ' will be forthcoming without fail, but where, 
oh, where can we find the ' dejeuner ' ? " 

" I have thought of all that," said the General. 



Dejeuner a la Fourchette 325 

" I will send half a dozen fellows out with guns 
to bring in birds. I'll get John to make some cakes 
and biscuits, we'll brew a bowl of punch. Voila ! 
What more do you want?" 

" That will be fine," I assured him, and accord- 
ingly his invitations were sent, handsomely written, 
to about thirty people. A load of evergreens was 
delivered at the tent, and all hands set to work to 
weave garlands. Every candle in camp was 
" pressed." John made a fine success of his sponge 
cakes, and also fruit and nut cake — the fruit, dis- 
guised dried apples, the nuts, walnuts. 

The day before the event the General leaned, a 
dejected figure, against the mantel. 

" Those — blamed — soldiers have returned. They 
didn't bag a bird." 

" I feared that ! Virginia partridges are hunted 
with dogs. Besides, where can you find game within 
twenty miles of an army ? " 

" Well, it will take six months' pay, but we must 
buy oysters. I don't know what else we can do." 

" General," I said, " suppose you have a break- 
fast like one Mrs. , from North Carolina, gave 

here when she stayed with me last month. She had 
little menus neatly written, including various dishes. 
The dishes, however, were imaginary. They did 
not appear ! The guests left with the impression 
that these things had been provided, but that acci- 
dents which were to be counted on in time of war 
had spoiled them. Now, John could easily an- 
nounce a fall of soot from the chimney, — like 
Caleb Balderstone ! Aunt Jinny would make an 



326 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

admirable ' Mysie.' Have you never heard her 
'skirl ' ? We might imagine partridges, turkey, and 
ham, and then imagine the accidents. What could 
be simpler ? " 

The General's breakfast was a great success. The 
weather was fine. One of his staff, who was not 
invited, confided to me his fear that there would be 
nothing left ! And, indeed, the guests brought noble 
appetites. The General took in the pretty widow. 
General A. P. Hill honored me. A gay procession 
of open wagons filled with merry guests left the door 
at sunset, and sang " The Bonnie Blue Flag " as they 
wended their way home. General Lee from his head- 
quarters could hear the song, and doubtless it cheered 
his sympathetic heart, albeit he knew a battle was near 
at hand. He could not know that in that battle 
General Hill and Colonel Pegram would fall with 
all their wounds in front, among the first of those 
martyrs whose lives were sacrificed after the leaders 
knew there was no more life in the cause for which 
they died. 

Our friends in town sent many invitations to us 
dwellers in tents. Of course, I accepted none of 
them. I had no heart for gayety, and not one 
moment's time to spare from my sewing. It is 
passing strange — this disposition to revel in times 
of danger and suffering. Florence was never so gay 
as during the Plague ! The men of our armv who 
had been absent three years were now near their 
homes, and they abandoned themselves to the op- 
portunities of the hour. Some of them were en- 
gaged to the beautiful young women of Petersburg. 



Starvation Parties — Forced Cheerfulness 327 

" This is no time for marriage," said General Lee, 
" no time while the country is in such peril ; " and 
yet he granted a furlough now and then to some 
soldier who was unwilling to wait. 

There were parties, " starvation parties," as they 
were called on account of the absence of refreshments 
impossible to be obtained. Not even the lump of 
sugar allowed by Lady Morgan at her conversaziones 
was possible here; but notwithstanding this serious 
disadvantage, ball followed ball in quick succession. 
" The soldier danced with the lady of his love at 
night, and on the morrow danced the dance of death 
in the deadly trench on the line." There the ranks 
closed up ; and in the ball room they closed up 
also. There was always a comrade left for the part- 
ner of the belle ; and not one whit less valiant was 
the soldier for his brief respite. He could go from 
the dance to his place in the trenches with a light 
jest, however heavy his heart might be. And when 
the beloved commander ordered him forth, he could 
step out with martial tread and cheer and song — to 
the march or into battle. I think all who remember 
the dark days of the winter of 1 864-1 865 will bear 
witness to the unwritten law enforcing cheerfulness. 
It was tacitly understood that we must make no 
moan, yield to no outward expression o£ despon- 
dency or despair. 

On January 30 General Wilcox came in, bringing 
great news. Three commissioners authorized to 
meet representatives of the Federal government 
had arrived in Petersburg en route for Fortress 
Monroe. They were Vice-President Stephens, 



328 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Senator R. M. T. Hunter, and James A. Campbell, 
former Assistant Justice of the Supreme Court of 
the United States, and now Assistant Secretary of 
War of the Confederate States. 

" I thought," said the General, " you might 
come out and listen to the cheering. It is echoed 
by the enemy. There seems to be no doubt of the 
feeling on both sides." 

I begged the General to lend me an ambulance, 
and drove out to the front. The troops of Fort 
Gregg and Battery 45 — just in the rear of my gar- 
den — had come out and were cheering vociferously. 
There seemed to be a truce for the moment. We 
could distinctly hear the answering cheers from the 
opposing fortifications. 

My ambulance drew up to the side of the road, 
and presently an open carriage appeared, with the 
mayor and the three commissioners. They paused 
for a few minutes before crossing the line. With 
my heart beating painfully, I left my ambulance and 
walked to the carriage. There Mr. Hunter greeted 
me kindly and introduced me to his companions. 
Trembling with emotion, I said : — 

" My errand is to you, dear Mr. Hunter. You 
are going to see President Lincoln or his represen- 
tative. I entreat you, I implore yo.i, to remember 
your friend General Pryor. He is breaking his 
heart in prison. Beg his release from Mr. 
Lincoln." 

" I will — we will," they promised. The carriage 
proceeded, and as it crossed the line a mighty cheer 
went up from the hundreds of soldiers, Confederate 



The Results of a Depreciated Currency 329 

and Union, who were standing on duty and looking 
on. 

In an instant we were enemies again, and I was 
hastening out of the range of shot and shell. 

On February 5 the commissioners returned from 
their bootless errand. Mr. Hunter wrote me that 
they had " remembered Pryor as was promised, but 
his release would not be considered." 

An extract from Order No. 2, February 11, 1865, 
from General Lee, explains the manner in which our 
proposals had been received : — 

" The choice between war and abject submission 
is before us. 

" To such a proposal, brave men, with arms in 
their hands, can have but one answer. 

" They cannot barter manhood for peace, nor the 
right of self-government for life or property. 

" Taking new resolution from the fate which our 
enemies intend for us, let every man devote all his 
energies to the common defence." 

I am afraid we were too faint from want of food 
to be as courageous as our noble commander 
expected. Flour was now selling for $1500 a bar- 
rel; bacon, $20 a pound; beef, $15 ditto: butter 
could be had at $20 a pound. One chicken could 
be bought for $50. Shad sold for $50 a pair 
(before the war the price was not more than ten or 
fifteen cents). One hundred dollars was asked for 
one dollar in gold, making the price I had given 
to save John from a negro trader $10,600! — news 
which he heard with such concern that I hastened 
to tell him I had never regretted it. 



330 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

John bethought himself of the fishes in the pond 
and streams, but not a fish-hook was for sale in 
Richmond or Petersburg. He contrived, out of a 
cunning arrangement of pins, to make hooks, and 
sallied forth with my boys. But the water was too 
cold, or the fish had been driven down-stream by 
the firing. The usual resource of the sportsman 
with an empty creel — a visit to the fishmonger — 
was quite out of the question. There was no fish- 
monger any more. 

Under these circumstances you may imagine my 
sensations at receiving the following note : — 

" My dear Mrs. Pryor : General Lee has been hon- 
ored by a visit from the Hon. Thomas Connolly, Irish 
M.P. from Donegal. 

" He ventures to request you will have the kindness to 
give Mr. Connolly a room in your cottage, if this can be 
done without inconvenience to yourself." 

Certainly I could give Mr. Connolly a room ; 
but just as certainly I could not feed him ! The 
messenger who brought the note hastily reassured 
me. He had been instructed to say that Mr. Con- 
nolly would mess with General Lee. I turned Mr. 
Connolly's room over to John, who soon became 
devoted to his service. The M.P. proved a most 
agreeable guest, a fine-looking Irish gentleman with 
an irresistibly humorous, cheery fund of talk. He 
often dropped in at our biscuit toasting, and as- 
sured us that we were better provided than the 
commander-in-chief. 



The Wolf crosses the Confederate Threshold 331 

" You should have seen ' Uncle Robert's ' dinner 
to-day, Madam ! He had two biscuits, and he 
gave me one." 

Another time Mr. Connolly was in high feather. 

" We had a glorious dinner to-day ! Somebody 
sent ' Uncle Robert ' a box of sardines." 

General Lee, however, was not forgotten. On 
fine mornings quite a procession of little negroes, in 
every phase of raggedness, used to pass my door, 
each one bearing a present from the farmers' wives 
of buttermilk in a tin pail, for General Lee. The 
army was threatened with scurvy, and buttermilk, 
hominy, and every vegetable that could be obtained 
was sent to the hospital. 

Mr. Connolly interested himself in my boys' 
Latin studies. 

" I am going home," he said, " and tell the Eng- 
glish women what I have seen here : two boys read- 
ing Caesar while the shells are thundering, and their 
mother looking on without fear." 

" I am too busy keeping the wolf from my door," 
I told him, " to concern myself with the thunder- 
bolts." 

The wolf was no longer at the door ! He had 
entered and had taken up his abode at the fireside. 
Besides what I could earn with my needle, 1 had 
only my father's army ration to" rely upon. My 
faithful John foraged right and left, and I had 
reason to doubt the wisdom of inquiring too closely 
as to the source of an occasional half-dozen eggs or 
small bag of corn. This last he would pound on a 
wooden block for hominy. Meal was no longer 



2^2 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

procurable. As I have said, we might occasionally 
purchase for five dollars the head of a bullock from 
the commissary, every other part of the animal 
being available for army rations. By self-denial on 
our own part, we fondly hoped we could support 
our army and at last win our cause. We were not, 
at the time, fully aware of the true state of things. 
Our men were so depleted from starvation that the 
most trifling wound would end fatally. Gangrene 
would supervene, and then nothing could be done to 
prevent death. Long before this time, at Vicksburg, 
Admiral Porter found that many a dead soldier's 
haversack yielded nothing but a handful of parched 
corn. We were now enduring a sterner siege. 

Before daylight, on the 2d of March, General Lee 
sent for General Gordon, who was with his command 
at a distant part of the line. 1 Upon arriving, General 
Gordon was much affected by seeing General Lee 
standing at the mantel in his room, his head bowed 
on his folded arms. The room was dimly lighted 
by a single lamp, and a smouldering fire was dying 
on the hearth. The night was cold and General 
Lee's room chill and cheerless. 

" I have sent for you, General Gordon," said 
General Lee, with a dejected voice and manner, " to 
make known to you the condition of our affairs and 
consult with you as to what we had best do. I have 
here reports sent in from my officers to-night. I 
find I have under my command, of all arms, hardly 
forty-five thousand men. These men are starving. 
They are already so weakened as to be hardly efH- 

1 "Camp-fire and Battle-field," p. 185. 



General Lee argues for Peace 233 

cient. Many of them have become desperate, reck- 
less, and disorderly as they have never been before. 
It is difficult to control men who are suffering for 
food. They are breaking open mills, barns, and 
stores in search of it. Almost crazed from hunger, 
they are deserting in large numbers and going home. 
My horses are in equally bad condition. The supply 
of horses in the country is exhausted. It has come 
to be just as bad for me to have a horse killed as a 
man. I cannot remount a cavalryman whose horse 
dies. General Grant can mount ten thousand men 
in ten days and move around your flank. If he 
were to send me word to-morrow that I might move 
out unmolested, I have not enough horses to move 
my artillery. He is not likely to send me any such 
message, although he sent me word yesterday that 
he knew what 1 had for breakfast every morning. 
I sent him word I did not think that this could be 
so, for if he did he would surely send me some- 
thing better. 

" But now let us look at the figures. As I said, 
I have forty-five thousand starving men. Hancock 
has eighteen thousand at Winchester. To oppose 
him I have not a single vidette. Sheridan, with his 
terrible cavalry, has marched unmolested and unop- 
posed along the James, cutting the railroads and the 
canal. Thomas is coming from Knoxville with thirty 
thousand well-equipped troops, and I have, to oppose 
him, not more than three thousand in all. Sherman 
is in North Carolina with sixty-five thousand men. 
... So I have forty-five thousand poor fellows in 
bad condition opposed to one hundred and sixty 






334 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

thousand strong and confident men. These forces, 
added to General Grant's, make over a quarter of a 
million. To prevent them all from uniting to my 
destruction, and adding Johnston's and Beauregard's 
men, I can oppose only sixty thousand men. They 
are growing weaker every day. Their sufferings are 
terrible and exhausting. My horses are broken 
down and impotent. General Grant may press around 
our flank any day and cut off our supplies." 

As a result of this conference General Lee went 
to Richmond to make one more effort to induce our 
government to treat for peace. It was on his re- 
turn from an utterly fruitless errand that he said : — 

" I am a soldier ! It is my duty to obey orders ; " 
and the final disastrous battles were fought. 

It touches me to know now that it was after this 
that my beloved commander found heart to turn 
aside and bring me comfort. No one knew better 
than he all I had endeavored and endured, and 
my heart blesses his memory for its own sake. At 
this tremendous moment, when he had returned 
from his fruitless mission to Richmond, when the 
attack on Fort Steadman was impending, when his 
slender line was confronted by Grant's ever in- 
creasing host, stretching twenty miles, when the men 
were so starved, so emaciated, that the smallest wound 
meant death, when his own personal privations were 
beyond imagination, General Lee could spend half 
an hour for my consolation and encouragement. 

Cottage Farm being on the road between head- 
quarters and Fort Gregg — the fortification which 
held General Grant in check at that point — I saw 



A Visit from General Lee 33$ 

General Lee almost daily going to this work, or to 
" Battery 45." On Sundays he regularly passed 
on his famous horse, Traveller, on his way to a 
little wooden chapel, going often through sleet and 
rain, bending his head to shield his face from the 
storm. 

I was, as was my custom, sewing in my little 
parlor one morning, about the middle of March, 
when an orderly entered, saying: — 

" General Lee wishes to make his respects to 
Mrs. Pryor." The General was immediately 
behind him. His face was lighted with the antici- 
pation of telling me his good news. With the 
high-bred courtesy and kindness which always dis- 
tinguished his manner, he asked kindly after my 
welfare, and, taking my little girl in his arms, began 
gently to break his news to me : — 

" How long, Madam, was General Pryor with me 
before he had a furlough ? " 

" He never had one, I think," I answered. 

" Well, did I not take good care of him until we 
camped here so close to you ? " 

" Certainly," I said, puzzled to know the drift of 
these preliminaries. 

" I sent him home to you, I remember," he con- 
tinued, " for a day or two, and you let the Yankees 
catch him. Now he is coming back to be with you 
again on parole until he is exchanged. You must 
take better care of him in future." 

I was too much overcome to do more than stam- 
mer a few words of thanks. 

Presently he added, " What are you going to 



336 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

say when I tell the General that in all this winter 
you have never once been to see me ? " 

" Oh, General Lee," I answered, " I had too much 
mercy to join in your buttermilk persecution ! " 

" Persecution ! " he said ; " such things keep us 
alive ! Last night, when I reached my headquar- 
ters, I found a card on my table with a hyacinth 
pinned to it, and these words : ' for General Lee, 
with a kiss ! ' Now," he added, tapping his breast, 
" I have here my hyacinth and my card — and I 
mean to find my kiss ! " 

He was amused by the earnest eyes of my little 
girl, as she gazed into his face. 

" They have a wonderful liking for soldiers," he 
said. " I knew one little girl to give up all her 
pretty curls willingly, that she might look like Cus- 
tis ! ' They might cut my hair like Custis's,' she said. 
Custis ! whose shaven head does not improve him 
in any eyes but hers." 

His manner was the perfection of repose and sim- 
plicity. As he talked with me I remembered that 
I had heard of this singular calmness. Even at 
Gettysburg, and at the explosion of the crater, he 
had evinced no agitation or dismay. I did not 
know then, as I do now, that nothing had ever 
approached the anguish of this moment, when he 
had come to say an encouraging and cheering word 
to me, after abandoning all hope of the success of 
the cause. 

After talking awhile and sending a kind message 
to my husband, to greet him on his return, he rose, 
walked to the window, and looked over the fields — 



No Hope expressed for the South 337 

the fields through which, not many days afterward, he 
dug his last trenches! 

I was moved to say, " You only, General, can tell 
me if it is worth my while to put the ploughshare 
into those fields." 

" Plant your seeds, Madam," he replied ; sadly 
adding, after a moment, " the doing it will be some 
reward." 

I was answered. I thought then he had little 
hope. I now know he had none. 

He had already, as we have seen, remonstrated 
against further resistance — against the useless shed- 
ding of blood. His protest had been unheeded. 
It remained for him now to gather his forces for 
endurance to the end. 

Twenty days afterward his headquarters were in 
ashes ; he had led his famished army across the 
Appomattox; and, telling them they had done their 
duty, and had nothing to regret, he had bidden 
them farewell forever. 



CHAPTER XXII 

THE EVACUATION OF PETERSBURG 

THE happy day was not distant when the hus- 
band and father of our little family was to be 
restored to his own home and his own people. 

I never inquired the source from which John 
drew his materials for a festival ; but, a day or two 
before my husband was to arrive, he appeared with 
a small duck ! This he roasted to perfection, to be 
served cold, as the hour for the dinner could not be 
determined in advance. 

We were all expectation and excitement when a 
lady drove up rapidly and asked for shelter, as she 
had been " driven in from the lines." Shelter I 
could give by spreading quilts on the parlor floor — 
but, alas, my duck ! Must my precious duck be 
sacrificed upon the altar of hospitality? I unlocked 
the little tin safe to assure myself that I could man- 
age to keep it hidden, and behold, it was gone ! 
Not until next day, when it was placed before my 
husband with a triumphant flourish (our unwelcome 
guest had departed), did I discover that John had 
stolen it ! " Why, there's the duck ! " I exclaimed. 

" Course here's the duck," said John, respectfully. 
" Ducks got plenty of sense. They knows as well 
as folks when to hide." 

338 



The Story of General Pryor's Captivity 339 

We found our released prisoner pale and thin, 
but devoutly thankful to be at home. Mr. Con- 
nolly and the officers around us called in the even- 
ing, keenly anxious to hear his story, and heartily 
expressing their joy at his release. My friends in 
Washington had wished to send me some presents, 
but my husband declined them, accepting only two 
cans of pineapple. Mr. Connolly sent out for the 
" boys in the yard " and assisted me in dividing the 
fruit into portions, so each one should have a bit. It 
was served on all the saucers and butter-plates we 
could find, and Mr. Connolly himself handed the tray 
around, exclaiming, " Oh, lads ! It is just the best 
thing you ever tasted ! " Then each soldier brought 
forth his brier-root and gathered around the traveller 
for his story. His story was a thrilling one — of his 
capture, his incarceration, his comrades; finally, of the 
unexpected result of the efforts of his ante-bellum 
friends, Washington McLean and John W. Forney, 
for his release. It was ascertained by these friends in 
Washington that he was detained as hostage for the 
safety of some Union officer whom the Confederate 
government had threatened to put to death. 

Mr. McLean and Colonel Forney first ap- 
proached General Grant. The General positively 
refused to grant their request. Then Mr. McLean 
visited Mr. Stanton. He found Mr. Stanton in 
the library of his own home, with his daughter in 
his arms, and the following conversation ensued : — 

" This is a charming fireside picture, Mr. Secre- 
tary ! I warrant that little lady cares nothing for 
war or the Secretary of War ! She has her father, 
and that fills all her ambition." 



34-0 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" You never said a truer word, did he, pet ? " 
pressing the curly head close to his bosom. 

" Well, then, Stanton, you will understand my 
errand. There are curly heads down there in old 
Virginia, weeping out their bright eyes for a father 
loved just as this pretty baby loves you." 

" Yes, yes ! Probably so," said Stanton. 

"Now — there's Pryor — " 

But before another word could be said the Secre- 
tary of War pushed the child from his knee and 
thundered: — 

" He shall be hanged ! Damn him ! " 

But he had reckoned without his host when he 
supposed that Washington McLean would not 
appeal from that verdict. Armed with a letter of 
introduction from Horace Greeley, Mr. McLean 
visited Mr. Lincoln. The President remembered 
General Pryor's uniformly generous treatment of 
prisoners who had, at various times, fallen into his 
custody, especially his capture at Manassas of 
the whole camp of Federal wounded, surgeons 
and ambulance corps, and his prompt parole of the 
same. Mr. Lincoln listened attentively, and, after 
ascertaining all the facts, issued an order directing 
Colonel Burke, the commander at Fort Lafayette, 
to " deliver Roger A. Pryor into the custody of 
Washington McLean." 

Armed with this order, Mr. McLean visited Fort 
Lafayette, where he found his friend in close con- 
finement in the casemate with other prisoners. 

At that time John Y. Beall, a Confederate officer, 
was confined with General Pryor, under sentence of 



Lincoln's Views on Continuing the War 341 

death as a spy. Mr. McLean became interested in 
his fate, and suggested that if General Pryor would 
make a personal appeal in his behalf to President 
Lincoln, his execution might probably be prevented. 
To that end, Mr. McLean telegraphed a request to 
Mr. Lincoln, that he accord General Pryor an inter- 
view, to which a favorable response was promptly 
returned. The next evening, General Pryor, with 
Mr. McLean and Mr. Forney, called at the White 
House, and was graciously received by the President. 
General Pryor at once opened his intercession in be- 
half of Captain Beall ; but, although Mr. Lincoln 
evinced the sincerest compassion for the young man, 
and an extreme aversion to his death, he felt 
constrained to yield to the assurance of General Dix, 
in a telegram just received, that the execution was 
indispensable to the security of the Northern cities 
— it being believed, though erroneously, that Cap- 
tain Beall was implicated in the burning of the New 
York hotels. Mr. Lincoln then turned the conver- 
sation to the recent conference at Hampton Roads, 
the miscarriage of which he deplored with the pro- 
foundest sorrow. He said that had the Confederate 
government agreed to the reestablishment of the 
Union and the abolition of slavery, the people of 
the South might have been compensated for the loss 
of their negroes and would have been protected by a 
universal amnesty, but that Mr. Jefferson Davis 
made the recognition of the Confederacy a condition 
sine qua non of any negotiations. Thus, he declared, 
would Mr. Davis be responsible for every drop of 
blood that should be shed in the further prosecution 



34 2 Reminiscences' of Peace and War 

of the war, a futile and wicked effusion of blood, 
since it was then obvious to every sane man that the 
Southern armies must be speedily crushed. On 
this topic he dwelt so warmly and at such length 
that General Pryor inferred that he still hoped the 
people of the South would reverse Mr. Davis's 
action, and would renew the negotiations for peace. 
Indeed, he declared in terms that he could not be- 
lieve the senseless obstinacy of Mr. Davis represented 
the sentiment of the South. It was apparent 
to General Pryor that Mr. Lincoln desired him to 
sound leading men of the South on the subject. 
Accordingly, on the General's return to Richmond, 
he did consult with Senator Hunter and other 
prominent men in the Confederacy, but with one 
voice they assured him that nothing could be done 
with Mr. Davis, and that the South had only to wait 
the imminent and inevitable catastrophe. 

The inevitable catastrophe marched on apace. 

Agnes wrote from Richmond, March 28 — the 
last letter I received from the Confederate capital : — 

" I do hate to write you bad news just now when you 
should be so happy with our dear General, but, really and 
truly, I don't at all like the looks of things here. Sheridan 
is at Ashland. And General Sherman has finished up 
North Carolina, and is in Virginia ! 

" I made an excursion through some of the Main Street 
stores last week — and recognized some of Mrs. Davis's 
things. I learned that she had placed a great many 
articles at the dry-goods stores for sale and had sold her 
horses. And now comes the surprising news, that she has 
left the city with her family. What does all this mean ? 



Events after the General's Return 343 

Some of the girls here have taken their jewellery to the 
Treasury Department, giving it to help redeem the currency. 
I am sure they are welcome to all mine ! " 

On the morning of April 1 we were all up 
early that we might prepare and send to Dr. Clai- 
borne's Hospital certain things we had suddenly 
acquired. An old farmer friend of my husband had 
loaded a wagon with peas, potatoes, dried fruit, 
hominy, and a little bacon, and had sent it as a wel- 
coming present. We had been told of the preva- 
lence of scurvy in the hospitals, and had boiled a 
quantity of hominy, and also of dried fruit, to be 
sent with the potatoes for the relief of the sick. 

My husband said to me at our early breakfast : — 

" How soundly you can sleep ! The cannonading 
was awful last night. It shook the house." 

" Oh, that is only Fort Gregg," I answered. 
" Those guns fire incessantly. I don't consider 
them. You've been shut up in a casemate so 
long you've forgotten the smell of powder." 

Our father, who happened to be with us that 
morning, said : — 

" By the bye, Roger, I went to see General Lee, 
and told him you seemed to be under the impression 
that if your division moves, you should go along 
with it. The General said emphatically: 'That 
would be violation of his parole, Doctor. Your son 
surely knows he cannot march with the army until 
he is exchanged.' " 

This was a great relief to me, for I had been 
afraid of a different construction. 



344 Reminiscences' of Peace and War 

After breakfast I repaired to the kitchen to see 
the pails filled for the hospital, and to send Alick and 
John on their errand. 

Presently a message was brought me that I must 
join my husband, who had walked out to the forti- 
fication behind the garden. I found a low earth- 
work had been thrown up during the night still 
nearer our house, and on it he was standing. 

I have had, very lately, access to a Federal map 
of the intrenched lines in the immediate front of 
Petersburg, drawn by a major of engineers of the 
United States Army. There I find a double line 
of breastworks, protected by thirty-four forts sweep- 
ing around the city and embracing some six or eight 
miles of country beyond, on either side. Within the 
Federal line is a little thread of a line protected by 
lunettes and only two forts (for this map has quite a 
Chinese feeling), and these two are named by the 
enemy, Fort Gregg and Fort Baldwin — the latter 
our Battery 45. To my surprise I find the engineer 
had his eye on me all winter. Near together are 
certain dots — two for " Turnbull " (General Lee's 
headquarters), two for " Green," two for " Laighton," 
and four for " Pryor," representing the dwelling, 
office, kitchen, and servants' quarter at Cottage Farm ! 
I perceive from the map that the engineer knew all 
about us all the time. 

To return to the morning of April 1 — my 
husband held out his hand and drew me up on the 
breastwork beside him. Negroes were passing, 
wheeling their barrows, containing the spades they 
had just used. Below was a plain, and ambulances 



Flight from Cottage Farm, April 2d 345 

were collecting and stopping at intervals. Then a 
slender gray line stretched across under cover of the 
first earthwork and the forts. Fort Gregg and 
Battery 45 were belching away with all their 
might, answered by guns all along the line. While 
we gazed on all this the wood opposite seemed alive, 
and out stepped a division of bluecoats — muskets 
shining and banners flying in the morning sun. My 
husband exclaimed : " My God ! What a line ! 
They are going to fight here right away. Run 
home and get the children in the cellar." 

When I reached the little encampment behind the 
house, I found the greatest confusion. Tents were 
struck and a wagon was loading with them. Cap- 
tain Glover rode up to me and conjured me to leave 
immediately. I reminded him of his promise not 
to allow me to be surprised. 

" We are ourselves surprised," he said ; " believe 
me, your life is not safe here a moment." Tapping 
his breast, he continued, " I bear despatches proving 
what I say." 

I ran into the house and gathered my little chil- 
dren. I bade the servants remain. If things grew 
warm, they had the cellar, and perhaps their presence 
would save their own goods and mine, should the 
day go against us. Uncle Frank immediately 
repaired to the cellar. " I have only one order," I 
told the rest, " hide the General's flag." As I left 
(bareheaded, I could not find my hat), I heard 
Uncle Frank call from the little portholes of his 
retreat to his wife, " For Gawd's sake, Jinny, bring 
me a gode of water." 



346 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

The morning was close and warm, and as we 
toiled up the dusty road I regretted the loss of my 
hat. Presently I met a gentleman driving rapidly 
from town. It was my neighbor, Mr. Laighton. 
He had removed his wife and little girls to a place 
of safety and was returning for me. He proposed, 
as we were now out of musket range, that I should 
rest with the children under the shade of a tree, and 
he would return to the farm to see if he could save 
something — what did I suggest? I asked that he 
would bring a change of clothing for the children and 
my medicine chest. 

As we waited for his return some terrified horses 
dashed up the road, one with blood flowing from 
his nostrils. When Mr. Laighton finally returned, 
he brought news that he had seen my husband, that 
all the cooked provisions were spread out for the 
passing soldiers, and that more were in preparation ; 
also that he had promised to take care of me, and 
to leave the General free to dispense these things 
judiciously. John had put the service of silver 
into the buggy, and Eliza had packed a trunk, 
for which he was to return. This proved to be 
the French trunk in which Eliza sent a change of 
clothing. 

We were all soon in the buggy and on our way 
to town. 

"Where shall I take you ? " asked Mr. Laighton. 
I had no answer ready. I thought I would trust 
to chance for an invitation. But we found the 
streets full of refugees like ourselves, and like our- 
selves, uncertain of shelter. Very few of our friends 



A House secured in Petersburg 347 

had remained in the city after the siege had proven 
to be a permanent one. 

After a while, as we drove slowly through the 
crowded streets, we met Mr. Stuart, my husband's 
tailor. He said a good house had been left vacant 
by one of his customers, who had authorized him to 
rent it. 

" I now rent it to General Pryor," said Mr. Stuart, 
and he conducted us to the door of a residence near 
my old home on Washington Street. When the 
door-bell was answered he informed a man whom 
he addressed as Robert, that we had become his 
master's tenants, and said that Robert and his 
mother, now in the house, would not be required 
to leave, adding : — 

" Take good care of this lady. I will see that 
your wages are paid and that you are suitably 
rewarded." 

The silver service was dumped down in the front 
porch, and there we awaited events. About noon 
John appeared. He had saved something ! — my 
champagne glasses ! He had also brought a basket 
of biscuits. I sent him back to the farm, strictly 
ordering that the flag should be cared for. John 
told me it was safe. He had hidden it under some 
fence rails in the cellar. As to the battle, he had no 
news, except that " Marse Roger is giving away 
everything on the earth. All the presents from the 
farmer will go in a little while." 

My next envoy from the seat of war was Alick, 
who walked into the yard, leading Rose by a rope, 
and at once proceeded to stable her. Go back ? 



348 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

No, marrriy not if he knew his name was Alick. 
His mammy had never borned him to be in no battle ! 
And walking off to give Rose a pail of water, he 
informed her that " You 'n me, Rose, is the only 
folks I see anywhar 'bout here with any sense." 

Neighbors soon discovered us ; and to my joy 
I found that Mrs. Gibson, Mrs. Meade, and Mr. 
Bishop — one of my father's elders — were in their 
own houses, very near my temporary shelter. 

Our father, I learned afterwards, was with the 
hospital service of his corps, and had been sent to 
the rear. 

The hospitals under Dr. Claiborne were ordered 
off early in the day, a significant indication of 
General Lee's accurate estimate of the probabilities 
of the hour. Dr. Claiborne had three thousand 
sick and wounded men to move. Among them 
was Colonel Riddick, from Smithfield, the brother 
of the spirited girl I had known there. She had 
come to Petersburg to nurse her wounded brother, 
and had left, in a wagon, with the hospital train. 
Part of this train was captured, and the wagons were 
ordered to be burned ; but Miss Riddick posi- 
tively refused to leave her seat, and as they could 
not burn the wagon with her in it, she was suffered 
to proceed with her brother in her own equipage. 
Miss Riddick was not a young lady who need fear. 
"There's a divinity doth hedge" some women. 
She was courteously treated and passed through 
the lines to her friends. 

In the evening the little boys came in with con- 
fidential news. The day had gone against us ; 



Preparing for the Federals 349 

the city was to be surrendered after the retreat of 
the army at midnight. Their father would come 
in with the last. 

I remembered with anguish that I had lost my 
chance to save the important papers of the family. 
In a trunk in my room I had locked all my one 
lover's beautiful letters, all the correspondence — 
so rich I had meant to print it — of his residence 
in Greece, of his travels in the East and in Egypt ; 
all the letters from statesmen and authors of the 
years preceding the struggle. There they were. 
They would be sport for the enemy in a few hours. 
My eldest son, Theodorick, and Campbell Pryor, 
my husband's twelve-year-old brother, agreed to 
return to the farm, draw the trunk out to the rear 
of the kitchen, break it open, set fire to the contents, 
and not leave until they were consumed. 

In due time the boys returned, having accomplished 
the burning of the letters, but bearing between them 
a huge bundle — a sheet full of papers. " Father's 
sermons," explained Campbell. 

When the time came for my tired little brood to 
go to bed, I found three upper rooms prepared for 
us. In one of these I put the boys, first placing the 
large silver tray between two mattresses. A hamper 
filled with soiled towels and pinafores stood in a 
corner. Therein I bestowed the six pieces of the 
service, covering the whole with the soiled linen. 
A smaller room I reserved for my husband, into 
which I locked him, putting the key in my pocket 
— for he had returned in such an excited frame of 
mind, and in such physical exhaustion, that I was 



350 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

uneasy about him, lest he might, when the army 
passed, yield to his feelings and go along with it. 

Then I took my seat at the window and listened. 
The firing had all ceased. 

A ring at the door-bell startled me. There stood 
Mayor Townes, come to ask if General Pryor would 
go out with the flag of truce and surrender the city. 

" Oh, he cannot — he cannot," I declared. " How 
can you ask him to surrender his old home ? Be- 
sides, he is worn out, and is now sleeping heavily." 

About two o'clock, General Lee passed the house 
with his staff. It is said he looked back and said to 
his aide : " This is just what I told them at Rich- 
mond. The line has been stretched until it snapped." 
Presently there was a loud explosion — another — 
another. The bridges were being blown up. Then 
fires announced the burning of warehouses of tobacco. 

And then ! As the dawn broke, I saw the Fed- 
eral pickets entering silently, watchfully. Finding 
no resistance, they threw their muskets over into 
the yard and hurried down town to plunder ! 

I awoke my boys. " Get up, boys ! Dress 
quickly. Now remember, you must be very self- 
controlled and quiet, and no harm will come to you." 

Immediately the door of my room was thrown 
wide open, and Robert ushered in three armed, 
German-looking soldiers. 

" What do you want ? " I asked. 

" To search the house," they answered. 

"You will find nothing worth your while. There 
is my shawl ! I have just run in from the lines. 
Here are my children." 



Entrance of Northern Soldiers 351 

" We don't want your clothes," said one ; " we 
want your prisoner." 

My husband had heard and knocked at his door. 
He had not undressed. 

"Here I am," he said, coming out and fastening 
his collar ; and, before I could think, they had 
marched him off. 

I was left alone with the boy Robert, who had be- 
trayed him. He stood trembling, not with fear — 
with excitement. 

" Leave this house ! " I ordered him. 

" What for ? " he asked sullenly. 

" Because you are no friend of mine. This is now 
my house. You are not to set foot in it again." 

Strange to say, he left. 

He had admitted into the house more soldiers 
than these three. I had brought with me from the 
farm a little negress, Lizzie, who had been hired by 
Eliza " to amuse the baby." Lizzie had obeyed 
the instinct which always leads a child's Southern 
nurse to the kitchen, and had gone below with my 
baby. I heard the most tremendous stamping and 
singing in the basement kitchen, and from the top 
of the staircase I called to Lizzie, who ran up, 
frightened, with the child in her arms. A soldier 
looked up from the bottom. 

" What are you doing here ? " I asked. 

" Getting breakfast," he replied. 

"You'll get none here," I told him. 

He set his bayonet forward and started up the 
steps. I slipped back and luckily found a bolt on 
the door. Quick as thought I bolted him out. 



3 $2 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

But I was burningly indignant. I saw the street 
full of troops standing, and a young officer on 
horseback. I ran out and said to him : — 

" Is it your pleasure we should be murdered in 
our houses ? My kitchen is full of soldiers." 

" Where, where ? " exclaimed the young fellow, 
dismounting and running in. 

I conducted him to the bolted door, unfastened 
it, and had the satisfaction of seeing him lay about 
with the flat of his sword to good purpose. He 
placed a guard around the house. Moreover, his 
action sustained me in my position, and the old 
woman in the kitchen greeted me respectfully, 
apologized for her son, and promised faithful service 
in the future. 

But another and most bitter trial was in store for 
me. An approaching army corps was hailed with 
shouts and cheers as it passed down the street. At 
its head was borne the trophy that had aroused this 
enthusiasm : our own sacred banner, given by 
the women of Petersburg to the young colonel at 
Smithfield, and inscribed with the names of the 
battles into which he had proudly borne it. It was 
coming back — a captive! How grateful I felt that 
my husband had not seen it ! " Ole Uncle Frank's 
at the bottom of that business," said Alick, — and 
alas ! we had reason to suppose the polite old colored 
gentleman had purchased favor by revealing the 
hiding-place of our banner. My husband soon 
returned. He had presented Mr. Lincoln's card, 
on which the President had written his " parole until 
exchanged." Thereafter he was arrested and re- 



Watching the Hostile Host 253 

leased every time the occupying troops moved and 
were replaced by new brigades and divisions. 

We sat all day in the front room, watching the 
splendidly equipped host as it marched by on its 
way to capture Lee. It soon became known that 
we were there. Within the next few days we had 
calls from old Washington friends. Among others 
my husband was visited by Elihu B. Washburne, 
and Senator Henry Wilson, afterward Vice-President 
of the United States with General Grant. These 
paid long visits and talked kindly and earnestly of 
the South. 

Major-General Warren had been relieved of his 
command and superseded by Sheridan. His old 
friend, Randolph Harrison, lay ill and wounded near 
us, and General Warren introduced himself to 
General Pryor and asked to be conducted to his 
friend's bedside. From that time he was with us 
every day, and, indorsed warmly by " Ranny," our 
old friend, he too was admitted into our friendship. 

Mr. Lincoln soon arrived and sent for my hus- 
band. But General Pryor excused himself, say- 
ing that he was a paroled prisoner, that General 
Lee was still in the field, and that he could hold no 
conference with the head of the opposing army. 

The splendid troops passed continually. Our 
hearts sank within us. We had but one hope — 
that General Lee would join Joseph E. Johnston 
and find his way to the mountains of Virginia, those 
ramparts of nature which might afford protection 
until we could rest and recruit. 



2A 



CHAPTER XXIII 

RICHMOND SURRENDERS 

"Richmond, April 5, 1865. 

" "^ IW^ dear: — I am not at all sure you will ever 
%/| receive this letter, but I shall risk it. First, I 

-L ▼ -I- join you in humble thanks to God for the great 
mercy accorded both of us. Your General lives. My 
Colonel lives. What words can express our gratitude ? 
What is the loss of home and goods compared with the loss 
of our own flesh and blood ? Alas ! Alas ! for those who 
have lost all ! 

" I am sure you will have heard the grewsome story of 
Richmond's evacuation. I was at St. Paul's Sunday, 
April 1, when a note was handed to President Davis. 
He rose instantly, and walked down the aisle — his face 
set, so we could read nothing. Dr. Minnegerode gave 
notice that General Ewell desired the forces to assemble 
at 3 p.m., and also that there would be no further service 
that day. I had seen no one speak to the doctor, and I 
wonder at the acuteness of his perception of the state of 
affairs. As soon as I reached the hotel I wrote a note to 
the proprietor, asking for news. He answered that grave 
tidings had come from Petersburg, and for himself he was by 
no means sure we could hold Richmond. He requested 
me to keep quiet and not encourage a tendency to excite- 
ment or panic. At first I thought I would read my ser- 
vices in the quiet of my little sky parlor at the Spotswood, 
but I was literally in a fever of anxiety. I descended to 

354 



The Capital before Evacuation 355 

the parlor. Nobody was there except two or three chil- 
dren with their nurses. Later in the afternoon I walked 
out and met Mr. James Lyons. He said there was no 
use in further evading the truth. The lines were broken 
at Petersburg and that town and Richmond would be 
surrendered late at night — he was going out himself with 
the mayor and Judge Meredith with a flag of truce and 
surrender the city. Trains were already fired to carry 
the archives and bank officials. The President and his 
Cabinet would probably leave at the same time. 

" ' And you, Judge ? ' 

" ' I shall stand my ground. I have a sick family, and 
we must take our chances together.' 

" ' Then seriously — really and truly — Richmond is 
to be given up, after all, to the enemy.' 

" ' Nothing less ! And we are going to have a rough 
time, I imagine.' 

" I could not be satisfied until I had seen Judge Camp- 
bell, upon whom we so much relied for good, calm sense. 
I found him with his hands full of papers, which he waved 
deprecatingly as I entered. 

" c Just a minute, Judge ! I am alone at the Spotwood 
and — ' 

" ' Stay there, my dear lady ! You will be perfectly 
safe. I advise all families to remain in their own houses. 
Keep quiet. I am glad to know the Colonel is safe. He 
may be with you soon now.' 

" With this advice I returned and mightily reassured 
and comforted the proprietor of the Spotswood. He 
immediately caused notice to be issued to his guests. I 
resolved to convey my news to the families I knew best. 
The Pegrams were in such deep affliction there was no 
room there for anxious fears about such small matters as 
the evacuation of cities, but I could see my dear Mrs. 
Paul, and Mrs. Maben, and say a comforting word at the 



3 $6 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Allan home — closed to all the world since poor John fell 
at Gettysburg. Mrs. Davis was gone and out of harm's 
way. The Lees were sacred from intrusion. Four 
members of that household — the General, ' Rooney,' 
Custis, and Robert — were all at the post of danger. 
Late in the afternoon three hundred or more prisoners 
were marched down the street ; the negroes began 
to stand about, quietly observant but courteous, making no 
demonstration whatever. The day, you remember, was 
one of those glorious days we have in April, and millions 
on millions of stars watched at night, looking down on 
the watchers below. I expected to sit by my window all 
night as you always do in a troubled time, but sleep over- 
took me. I had slept, but not undressed, when a loud 
explosion shook the house — then another. There were 
crashing sounds of falling glass from the concussion. I 
found the sun had risen. All was commotion in the 
streets, and agitation in the hotel. The city govern- 
ment had dragged hogsheads of liquor from the shops, 
knocked in the heads, and poured the spirits into the gut- 
ters. They ran with brandy, whiskey, and rum, and 
men, women, and boys rushed out with buckets, pails, 
pitchers, and in the lower streets, hats and boots, to be 
filled. Before eight o'clock many public buildings were 
in flames, and a great conflagration was evidently immi- 
nent. The flames swept up Main Street, where the 
stores were quickly burned, and then roared down the 
side streets almost to Franklin. 

" The doors of all the government bakeries were thrown 
open and food was given to all who asked it. Women 
and children walked in and helped themselves. At ten 
o'clock the enemy arrived, — ten thousand negro troops, 
going on and on, cheered by the negroes on the streets. 

" So the morning passed — a morning of horror, of 
terror ! Drunken men shouted and reeled through the 



Mr. Lincoln enters Richmond 357 

streets, a black cloud from the burning city hung like a 
pall over us, a black sea of faces filled the street below, 
shells burst continuously in the ashes of the burning 
armory. About four in the afternoon a salute of thirty- 
four guns was fired. A company of mounted dragoons 
advanced up the street, escorting an open carriage drawn 
by four horses in which sat Mr. Lincoln .and a naval 
officer, followed by an escort of cavalry. They drove 
straight to Mr. Davis's house, cheered all the way by 
negroes, and returned the way they came. I had a good 
look at Mr. Lincoln. He seemed tired and old — and 
I must say, with due respect to the President of the United 
States, I thought him the ugliest man I had ever seen. 
He was fairly elected the first time, I acknowledge, — but 
was he the last ? A good many of the ' free and equal ' 
were not allowed a vote then. 

" The next day I persuaded one of the lads in the hotel 
to take a walk with me early in the morning, and I 
passed General Lee's house. A Yankee guard was pacing 
to and fro before it — at which I felt an impulse of indig- 
nation, — but presently the door opened, the guard took 
his seat on the steps and proceeded to investigate the 
contents of a very neatly furnished tray, which Mrs. Lee 
in the kindness of her heart had sent out to him. 

" I am obliged to acknowledge that there is really no hope 
now of our ultimate success. Everybody says so. My heart 
is too full for words. General Johnson says we may comfort 
ourselves by the fact that war may decide a policy, but never 
a principle. I imagine our principle is all that remains to us 
of hope or comfort. 

" Devotedly, 

"Agnes." 

From my friend Admiral Porter I learned that he 
landed with President Lincoln, and that through 



3 $8 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

some contretemps no equipage was in waiting to 
conduct them through the streets of Richmond. 
They set out to walk, escorted by twelve of the 
boat's crew with bayonets fixed on their rifles. The 
day was warm, and the streets dusty, " owing to 
the immense gathering of the crowd, kicking up the 
dirt." Mr. Lincoln took off his hat and fanned his 
face, from which the perspiration was pouring, and 
looked as if he would give his presidency for a glass 
of water. 

The admiral, par parenthese, told many negro 
anecdotes in negro dialect, but, like all Northern 
imitators of that inimitable lingo, he "slipped up" 
on many words. The negro does not say " Massa " 
— his word is " Marster " ; he does not say " Bress 
de Lawd," — "Thank Gawd A'mighty" being his 
pious preference. 

The triumphing party was overtaken by an equi- 
page and a military escort, and proceeded, according 
to the admiral, "to the mansion of Mr. Davis. 1 It 
was quite a small affair compared with the White 
House, and modest in all its appointments, showing 
that while President Davis was engaged heart and 
soul in endeavoring to effect the division of the 
states, he was not, at least, surrounding himself with 
regal style, but was living in a modest, comfortable 
way, like any other citizen. Amid all his surround- 
ings the refined taste of his wife was apparent, and 
marked everything about the apartments." Admiral 
Porter thought that the Confederate government 

1 " Incidents and Anecdotes of the Civil War," Porter, p. 302. 



Opinions on a Continuance of War 359 

had departed in an ignoble manner, " that it should 
have remained at the capital and surrendered in a 
dignified way, making terms for the citizens of the 
place, guarding their rights, and acknowledging 
they had lost the game. There was nothing to 
be ashamed of in such a surrender to a vastly 
superior force ; their armies had fought as people 
never fought before. They had ' robbed the cradle 
and the grave' to sustain themselves, and all that 
was wanted to make them glorious was the sub- 
mission of their leaders and troops in a dignified 
way," etc. 

This was also the feeling of many of our own 
best men — of General Lee and scores of his 
officers, of Judge Campbell, of the private citi- 
zens of Richmond. Mr. Davis differed from 
these men. General Lee's opinion was known 
to his officers. General Gordon once said to 
him : — 

" Have you expressed an opinion, as to the pro- 
priety of making terms, to the President or to 
Congress ? " 1 

His reply was : " General Gordon, I am a soldier. 
It is my duty to obey orders. ... It is enough to 
turn a man's hair gray to spend one day in that 
Congress. The members are patriotic and earnest, 
but they will neither take the responsibility of acting 
nor will they clothe me with authority to act. As 
for Mr. Davis, he is unwilling to do anything short 
of independence, and feels that it is useless to try to 
treat on that basis." This conversation immediately 

1 " Camp-fire and Battle-field," pp. 486, 487. 



360 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

preceded the terrible battle at Petersburg, and the 
consequent loss of that city and Richmond. Much 
could have been saved in blood and in treasure had 
the final battles never taken place. " Whom the 
gods destroy they first infatuate." 



CHAPTER XXIV 

sheridan's occupation of Petersburg 

SUCH alarming rumors reached us from the 
neighboring counties, of marauding parties 
plundering private houses and frightening 
defenceless women, that my husband obtained an 
extension of his parole, and permission to visit his 
sisters in Nottoway County. He had not heard 
from his father since the fight at Cottage Farm. 
Leaving me in the care of my neighbor, good Mr. 
Bishop, he set forth. 

The first stirring event of our new position was 
the arrival of prisoners, marched through the streets 
under a strong guard. They were a forlorn body 
of ragged, hatless, barefoot men. They had found 
poles or sticks somewhere, and upon them they 
waved their hats and handkerchiefs — the poor, brave 
fellows ! We women stood at the doors of our 
houses with smiles and encouraging words. One 
of the soldiers darted from the ranks, rushed to me, 
embraced me as if I were a sister, and slipped his 
watch into my hands ! It was a novel experience ; 
but I think if he had appeared as a prisoner in the 
garb of Beelzebub, horns, hoofs, and all, I should 
not have flinched. Within the watch I found his 

361 



362 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

name — a connection of our family and a valued 
friend. He had recognized me, but I could not 
recognize the elegant young colonel in his imperso- 
nation of a ragged barefoot boy. 

My little sons soon found the destination of the 
captives, also that citizens were getting permits from 
headquarters to take them home. 

" Then you must go and ask General Hartsuff 
for a permit," I said. Upon inquiry it appeared 
that this could not be done by proxy. Some adult 
member of the family must apply in person. 

So I took my young escorts with me, and we 
went to " Centre Hill," the fine Boiling House, 
where the General had made his headquarters. I 
presented my plea. How many did I want ? I 
thought I could take care of eight. Their names ? 
I could give only one, the owner of the watch. The 
General kindly conceded that I might select my men, 
adding, " Would to God I could release them all ! " 

The first impression I had of the temporary 
prison was of stifling heat in which no one could 
live. The place smelt violently ! My friend 
helped me choose my men, and I was required to 
present myself with them, armed with my order, 
to have my name and theirs entered in an army 
register, with an order that they report every day 
until the command moved on. As I was leaving 
the warehouse a fair-haired boy said to me, " Oh, 
take me along too ! " 

" Take my arm," I said ; and not until I 
reached the street did I realize the enormity of 
my mistake. I had stolen a prisoner ! 



Temporary Homes for Prisoners 363 

I knew well I could be severely punished. My 
boy soon told me his name. He was Frank 
Brooke, nephew of our dear Judge Randolph 
Tucker. 

But here was a dilemma. All night I revolved 
it in my mind. I had nine men — eight were to 
report next morning. Very early Alick knocked 
at my door. 

" What is it now, Alick ? " 

" One of dem prisoners run away las' night ! I 
hear de do' open and jump up to see what's de 
matter. He say, * Keep still, boy ! Hit's all 
right ! '" 

" So it is, Alick," I said, " it's perfectly delight- 
ful." 

I took a piece of my husband's silver service 
down to the Northern sutler, and pawned it for 
two hundred dollars. With this money I pur- 
chased shoes, handkerchiefs, and hats for my men, 
and kept them in comfort for a week or more. 
They were then " moved on" to other and distant 
quarters, — and all very soon liberated. 

One morning early I was summoned from my 
room by Alick, who informed me that four gentle- 
men had called. Descending to the parlor, I found 
four officers in Federal uniform. As soon as I 
entered, one of them asked brusquely : — 

" How many rooms are in this house ? " 

" I think there are eight or ten." 

" General Sheridan wants the house for his 
adjutant's office." 

I was aware that General Sheridan had arrived 



364 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

the day before, and had taken possession of Mr. 
Hamilton's elegant mansion on the next street, in 
the rear of my little dwelling. 

I at once perceived that the General, although 
in a house of twenty or more rooms, had not de- 
sired the noise and inconvenience of an adjutant's 
office under his own roof. I answered coldly : — 

" I cannot oblige General Sheridan. My house 
is small. I need it for my own family." 

One of the officers rose, crossed the room, and, 
standing before me, said sternly : — 

" Madam, you seem to be unaware that when 
General Sheridan sees a house that suits him, he 
knows how to make the terms for it." 

"Ah, well," I replied, " I had forgotten that fact 
for the moment. Do I understand my family 
must go in the street ? How much time can you 
give me to remove them?" 

The officers withdrew into the hall and con- 
ferred together. Presently one of them returned, 
and informed me courteously that they had con- 
cluded not to annoy me. He was aware he was 
addressing Mrs. General Pryor. His own name 
was Captain Lee, and he had been happy to spare 
me inconvenience. 

The next morning I was awakened soon after 
dawn by a tremendous hubbub below me, and 
sending my little maid, Lizzie, to ascertain the 
cause, she beckoned to me to come to the head of 
the stairs. I threw on my gown, thrust my feet 
into my carpet slippers, and peeped over the ban- 
ister. Captain Lee was standing at the foot of 



Accommodating an Adjutant's Office 365 

the stair, writing a note on the top of the newel 
post. Looking up, he saw me, and said : " I was 
writing to you, Madam. General Sheridan has 
ordered us to take your house. It is a military 
necessity. I pray you will try to be patient, and 
I will do all I can to save you annoyance." 

" How soon must I leave ? " 

" Not at all ! We can allow you two rooms — 
the one you already occupy and the one below it." 

I appreciated the concession of the latter room, 
and busied myself to make of it dining room and 
sitting room. 

I brought beds from a rear room to my own 
chamber, for the lodging of my family. Alick was 
positively stricken at the new turn things had taken; 
but I represented to him and to the boys the grave 
necessity, in their father's absence, of discreet and 
always courteous behavior. 

To add to my embarrassment, John brought in 
several hundred books he had picked up on the 
farm. They were dumped down in a pile in the 
corner of my reception room. 

The weather was intensely hot. It was impos- 
sible to sit with closed doors. I locked the doors 
of my bedroom during the day, and all the family, 
except myself, lived in the yard under my eyes, 
unless the rain drove them within. 

The first night of our captivity I had sent my 
baby with her small nurse to bed. Hearing a heavy 
step overhead, I ran up to my room. Standing in 
an easy attitude, leaning on the mantel, was a large 
negro man. He was smoking a cigar and talking 
to Lizzie. 



366 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" What is your business here ? " I asked. 

" Only my pleasure — to pass away a little time." 

" Look at me ! " 

The negro raised his eyes with an insolent smile. 
Slowly and with emphasis I said : — 

" Do you leave this room instantly ! And mark 
well my words. If ever you enter it again, I shall 
kill you ! " 

He left, and alas, alas ! my poor little Lizzie, 
whom I had hired from her mother, left also ; and 
not by me or by her friends was she ever seen 
again ! 

Only those who have lived in an adjutant's office 
can know the ceaseless noise, turmoil, tramping to 
and fro, loud talking night and day. There was 
no night. The gas (which they left me to pay for) 
burned brightly all night. Officers were coming in 
for orders day and night. I never knew to what 
use the upper rooms were put; I only know they 
were rarely silent. All the business of a great army 
was transacted here, that the General's entertaining, 
his elegant life, his sleep, might be undisturbed. 

The sentry was drawn so closely around my doors 
that I could never enter the yard or garden without 
passing them. Finally, upon going out to the little 
vine-clad summer-house to give my baby air — I 
cannot say fresh air — one of the sentinels shook my 
equilibrium by informing me as I passed : — 

" We've caught Jeff Davis." 

When I returned, my eyes cast down to avoid 
him, he stepped close to me and hissed in my ear, 
"He shall be hanged." 



Insolence of a Federal Sentry 367 

Mr. Davis had not then been arrested, but this I 
did not know. Leaving my baby with her brothers, 
I walked straight into the veranda of Mr. Hamil- 
ton's house, asked for General Sheridan, was ushered 
into a room where a number of officers were sitting 
around a table, and announced myself. 

" I am Mrs. Pryor, whose house you have taken 
for an adjutant's office. Sentinels have been placed 
around my house who insult me when I cross the 
threshold." 

General Sheridan rose : " What can we do for 
you, Madam ? What do you demand ? " 

" That the sentry around my house be removed 
to the street enclosure." 

I was invited to take a seat, but I preferred stand- 
ing while an order was made out. I have often 
smiled to think what I must have looked like to 
those officers. My gown was of chocolate-colored 
percale, with a white spot. Enormous hoops were 
then in fashion. I had long since been abandoned 
by mine. I fancy I resembled nothing so much as 
the wooden Mrs. Noah who presides over the 
animals in the children's " Noah's Arks." I took 
the order given me, bowed my thanks, and walked 
through a line of soldiers home. After this I had 
the larger liberty my children needed. 

It was my custom, in these days of my captivity, 
to descend early, that I might guard my books, to 
my little reception room. A dining room it did not 
become for a long time afterward. I had nothing 
whatever to eat except the biscuits brought me by 
Mr. Bishop, and a daily tray sent at noon by my 



368 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

angel friend, Mrs. Meade. She had some Northern 
men boarding with her and could command such fare 
as the sutler was willing to sell, for the farmers were 
as destitute of fresh food as ourselves. 

We had been excellent customers of a cigar shop 
in old times, and the proprietor now opened his 
establishment, and intrusted my boys and Campbell 
with a " walking agency." They sold cigars at 
good profit to the officers and soldiers around us; 
and we made acquaintance once more with United 
States pennies and dimes. 

Sitting all day in my little reception room, I was 
cheered by visits from my friends, and occasionally 
the tenants of the house would ask for a glass of 
water from the sideboard. Captain Lee came often. 
He confided to me his chagrin at the manners of 
the Petersburg ladies. He had picked up a veil for 
a pretty girl, and she had turned away her head 
when her hand was extended to receive it. The 
Captain was deeply hurt : he was " a Northern man, 
yes, but " he was " a gentleman." 

One day Captain Lee informed me that he had 
good news for me. " We have marching orders ! 
We go to-night ! I know you are pleased ! We 
have given you so much trouble ! " 

" Not more, I suppose, than was necessary ! " 

" Well, I must say, you have been very patient. 
General Sheridan is in the office and wishes to make 
his respects to you." 

The General entered and thanked me for the man- 
ner in which I had endured all the inconvenience to 
which he had subjected me. He seemed, for some 



A Visit from General Sheridan 369 

reason, to wish me to think well of his course toward 
us, and began to explain it. He alluded to the 
policy that he had adopted. 

" It was the very best thing to do," he declared. 
" The only way to stamp out this rebellion was to 
handle it without gloves." 

If he fancied I would either argue or agree with 
him, he mistook me. I was silent. There was an 
embarrassing pause, and he began to berate our gov- 
ernment for bad management. " Ladies should be 
better cared for," he said. 

" Why, I assure you there was no necessity for 
your starving ! I have unearthed, within forty miles 
of this place, enough provisions to keep you in 
perfect comfort." 

Looking down, he espied the brown eyes of my 
baby steadfastly fastened on his face. 

" I think I must borrow this little lady," he said. 
" It is not often General Sheridan has anything in 
his arms as sweet as this." 

He still had her in his arms as he turned to leave 
the room, and she gladly went with him. Presently 
she was brought back with a parcel in her own arms 
— figs, bananas, cakes, and nuts. 

Captain Lee came in late to bid me good-by, 
and to reiterate his thanks. 

" You really have been so very nice ! Now I am 
going to beg you will allow me to make some return." 

I hastened to accept his offer. I told him that 
my General's pet mare, Lady Jane, was in his com- 
mand. She had been missing ever since the battles 
around Richmond. John was sure he had seen her. 

2B 






370 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

By some chance she had fallen into the hands of the 
troops now in Petersburg. Could it be possible for 
me to reclaim her ? 

The Captain looked grieved. 

" No," he said ; " I had no thought of anything 
of that kind. But a great many ladies have asked 
for what I am going to give you. I have brought 
you General Sheridan's autograph." 

He instantly interpreted my disappointment. 
Before I could recover he added, " But it appears 
you don't wish it," and threw it on the table. 

" I can at least, Captain, be grateful that you tried 
to please me." 

That night the adjutant's office was closed. Next 
morning my husband returned. General Warren 
came in to see him. General Sheridan stood on 
our porch to receive the homage of his men, bowing 
to their cheers. General Warren looked on from 
our window. Presently the troops he had com- 
manded when he was superseded by Sheridan passed 
the house. They saw their old commander, and 
the shouts, " Hurrah for General Warren," must 
have been harsh sounds for General Sheridan. 

I was alone one afternoon in my accustomed seat, 
when a tall, lantern-jawed soldier with a musket on 
his shoulder marched in. 

" I want some whiskey ! " he informed me. 

" You'll not get it here ! " 

" Wall, I guess you'll have to scare it up. I'll 
search the house.' 

"Search away! I'll call the provost guard to 
help you," I said. 



Surrender of General Lee 371 

He turned and marched out. At the door he 
sent me a parting shot : — 

" Wall ! you've got a damned tongue ef you 
ain't got no whiskey ! " 

My husband has always considered this a very 
good story. I forestall him by telling it myself! 

I grew very fond of General Warren. He spent 
many hours with us ; tactful, considerate, and kind, 
he never grieved or offended us. 

One evening he silently took his seat. Presently 
he said : — 

" I have news which will be painful to you. It 
hurts me to tell you, but I think you had rather 
hear it from me than from a stranger — General 
Lee has surrendered." 

It was an awful blow to us. All was over. All 
the suffering, bloodshed, death — all for nothing ! 

General Johnston's army was surrendered to 
General Sherman in North Carolina on April 26. 
The banner which had led the armies of the South 
through fire and blood to victory, to defeat, in times 
of starvation, cold, and friendlessness ; the banner 
that Helen's lover had waved aloft on a forlorn hope 
until it fell from his lifeless hands ; the banner found 
under the dying boy at Gettysburg, who had smil- 
ingly refused assistance lest it be discovered, — the 
banner of a thousand histories was furled forever, 
with none so poor to do it reverence. 



CHAPTER XXV 

WOE TO THE VANQUISHED ! 

IMMEDIATELY after General Lee's surren- 
der, the United States Crcuit Court held a 
session at Norfolk, Virginia, and made haste 
to indict for treason Robert E. Lee, John C. Breck- 
enridge, Roger A. Pryor, and others. These men 
thereafter were not to feel any sense of personal 
security. A cloud of doubt and possible disaster 
still hung over them. Under this cloud they were 
to commence their lives anew. 

Every one who has suffered an overwhelming 
misfortune must be conscious of a strange deadening 
of feeling — more intolerable even than pain. It 
may be a merciful provision of nature. Insensi- 
bility at a crucial moment may be nature's anaesthe- 
sia. Dr. Livingstone, the African explorer, relates 
that he was conscious of this insensibility when in 
the paws of a lion. He had a theory that the 
instinct of all animals to shake their victim, as 
the cat does a mouse, may be given in mercy to the 
vanquished. I was so completely stunned by the 
thought that all the suffering, all the spilt blood, 
all the poverty, all the desolation of the South was 
for naught; that her very fidelity, heroism, and 
fortitude, qualities so noble in themselves, had 

372 



Dismissal of Servants 373 

wrought her undoing, that I seemed to become 
dead to everything around me. My husband was 
compelled to leave me, to seek employment in 
Richmond. My neighbors, like myself, were stunned 
into silence. " Here I and sorrow sit" might have 
been said truly of any one of us. 

When the passing troops left us with only Gen- 
eral HartsufFs guard, the small earnings of my little 
boys ceased. John and his fellow-servants came 
into town, and reported to me. 

" I can no longer maintain you or give you 
wages," I said to Eliza Page and her sisters. 

" We will serve you for the good you have 
already done us," they said, but of course I could 
not allow this to any extent. Eliza returned to 
her husband and their little home. 

With John I had more trouble. It was hard 
to make him understand that I could not afford 
his services on any terms. 

" I will never leave you," was his reply to every- 
thing I urged. 

" You must, John ! You must go home to your 
father in Norfolk. He will advise you." 

" The old man is in the oyster business," said 
John. " What do I care about oysters ? All I 
care for is Marse Roger and these boys." 

I knew that my poor John had an infirmity. 
Once when I had sent him with Alick from Cot- 
tage Farm on an errand he had returned very late. 
I could see the pair walking down the road alone, 
followed at some distance by the horse and wagon. 
They seemed to be trying to compass both sides of 



374 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

the road at once. Alick was the first to report to 
me, with these words : — 

"I — I — ain' drunk, — but Jawn ! Jawn, he 
vey drunk ! " 

This painful scene had been reenacted often enough 
to make me anxious. 

"You really must go to your father, John," I 
insisted. "How much money have you?" He 
had five dollars. I also had five, which I gave him. 

" Now don't let me see you again," I said. 
" Write to me from Norfolk." 

He left, protesting, but next morning he was 
gone. I heard from him soon and from his father. 
The old gentleman expressed gratitude and also 
some anxiety about John's " army habits." 

And so no more of the only slave I ever owned ! 

Agnes wrote from Richmond early in May: — 

" My Dearest : What could I do without you ? Now 
don't flatter yourself that I need now, or ever did need, those 
beautiful moral reflections in well-chosen language by means 
of which you have striven to educate me. But you are an 
unmitigated blessing when my ' feelings are too many for 
me ' — when, in short, I boil over. 

" Now when a kettle boils over it puts out the fire, and 
then we go tea-less to bed. How nice it would be for the 
kettle if some convenient utensil were at hand to receive its 
excited bubbles. 

U I am aggrieved and indignant at the sermons people are 
preaching to us. And I have caught a young brother in a 
flagrant theft. All Richmond is in a state of beautiful 
admiration at a sermon it listened to last week on the uses 
of our great misfortune. War was declared to be a blessing. 



Richmond News after Lee's Surrender 375 

l The high passion of patriotism prevents the access of baser 
passions. Men's hearts beat together, and woman is roused 
from the frivolousness and feebleness into which her nature 
is apt to sink. Death, insult, carnage, violated homes, and 
broken hearts are all awful. But it is worse than a thousand 
deaths when a people has adopted the creed that the wealth 
of nations consists — not in generous hearts, in primitive 
simplicity, in preference of duty to life; not in men, but in 
silk, cotton, and something that they call " capital." If the 
price to be paid for peace is this — that wealth accumulates 
and men decay, better far that every street in every town 
of our once noble country should run blood.' 

"Now all this is very fine, but very one-sided. And my 
brother didn't believe a word of it. He has been away in 
England and has seen none of the horrors of war ; but he 
has seen something else — a very charming lecture printed 
in London some time before the war. 1 

" Strange are the ways of Providence. Precisely that I 
might convict him did this address fall into my hands in 
Washington. It struck me forcibly at the time. Little 
did I think I should hear it in Richmond after a terrible 
civil war of our own. 

u I feel impatient at this attempt to extort good for our- 
selves out of the overwhelming disaster which brought such 
ruin to others ; to congratulate ourselves for what is pur- 
chased with their blood. Surely, if for no other reason, 
for the sake of the blood that has been spilt, we should not 
hasten to acquiesce in the present state of things. If I 
catch my Colonel piously affirming too much resignation, 
too prompt a forgetfulness of the past, I'll — well, he knows 
what I am capable of saying ! 

" But, now that I have safely boiled over, I will tell you 
my news. We cannot remain here. We are literally 
stripped to the ' primitive ' state my reverend brother thinks 

1 Lecture to members of the Mechanics' Institution, February, 1853. 



376 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

so good for us. We are wofullv in need of ' silk, cotton, 
and something; thev call capital,' and we'll never get it here. 
And so rav Colonel and I are going to New York. He has 
secured a place in some publishing house or other. I only 
wish it were a drv-goods store ! 

u Of course our social life is all over. I have taken my 
resolution. There are fine ladies in New York whom I 
used to entertain in Washington. Just so far as they 
approach me, will I approach them ! A card for a card, a 
visit for a visit. But I imagine I shall not be recognized. 
I am content. There will be plentv to read in that publishing 
house. I shall not repine. All the setting, the mtourage, 
of a ladv is taken from me, but the ladv herself has herself 
prettv well in hand, and is quite content if she may always 
be 

" Your devoted 

" Agnes." 



The time now came when I must draw rations 
for mv family. I could not do this by proxy. I 
was required to present mv request in person. 

As I walked through the streets in early morn- 
ing, I thought I had never known a lovelier day. 
How could Nature spread her canopy of blossoming 
magnolia and locust as if nothing had happened ? 
How could the vine over the doorway of my old 
home load itself with snowy roses, how could the 
birds sing, how could the sun shine as if such things 
as these could ever again gladden our broken hearts ? 

My dear little sons understood they were to 
escort me everywhere, so we presented ourselves 
together at the desk of the government official and 
announced our errand. 



Federal Rations of a Novel Nature 377 

" Have you taken the oath of allegiance, 
Madam ? " inquired that gentleman. 

" No, Sir." I was quite prepared to take the oath. 

The young officer looked at me seriously 
for a moment, and said, as he wrote out the 
order : — 

" Neither will I require it of you, Madam ! " 

I was in better spirits after this pleasant incident, 
and, calling to Alick, I bade him arm himself with 
the largest basket he could find and take my order 
to the commissarv. 

" We are going to have all sorts of good things," 
I told him, " fresh meat, fruit, vegetables, and 
everything." 

When the boy returned he presented a drooping 
figure and a woebegone tace. My first unworthy 
suspicion suggested his possible confiscation of my 
stores for drink, but he soon explained. 

" I buried that ole stinkin' fish ! I wouldn't 
bring it in your presence. An' here's the meal 
they give me." 

Hairy caterpillars were jumping through the 
meal ! I turned to my table and wrote : — 

" Is the commanding general aware of the nature of the 
ration issued this dav to the destitute women of Peters- 
burg? " (signing myself) 

"Mrs. Roger A. Pryor." 

This I gave to Alick, with instructions to present 
it, with the meal, to General HartsufF. 



378 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

Alick returned with no answer ; but in a few min- 
utes a tall orderly stood before me, touched his cap, 
and handed me a note. 

" Major-General Hartsuff is sorry he cannot make right 
all that seems so wrong. He sends the enclosed. Some 
day General Pryor will repay 

" George L. Hartsuff, 
" Major-General Commanding" 

The note contained an official slip of paper : — 

41 The Quartermaster and Commissary of the Army of 
the Potomac are hereby ordered to furnish Mrs. Roger A. 
Pryor with all she may demand or require, charging the 
same to the private account of 

" George L. Hartsuff, 
" Major-General Commanding." 

Without the briefest deliberation I wrote and 
returned the following reply : — 

" Mrs. Roger A. Pryor is not insensible to the generous 
offer of Major-General Hartsuff, but he ought to have known 
that the ration allowed the destitute women of Petersburg 
must be enough for 

" Mrs. Roger A. Pryor." 

As I sat alone, revolving various schemes for our 
sustenance, — the selling of the precious testimonial 
service (given by the Democracy of Virginia after 
my husband's noble fight against " Know-noth- 
ingism "), the possibility of finding occupation for 



Mrs. Hartsuff's Sympathy 379 

myself, — the jingling of chain harness at the door 
arrested my attention. There stood a handsome 
equipage, from which a very fine lady indeed was 
alighting. She bustled in with her lace-edged hand- 
kerchief to her eyes, and announced herself as Mrs. 
Hartsuff. She was superbly gowned in violet silk 
and lace, with a tiny fanchon bonnet tied beneath 
an enormous cushion of hair behind, the first of the 
fashionable chignons I had seen — an arrangement 
called a " waterfall," an exaggeration of the plethoric, 
distended " bun " of the Englishwoman of a few 
years ago. 

" Oh, my dear lady," she began, " we are in such 
distress at headquarters ! George is in despair ! 
You won't let him help you ! Whatever is he to 
do ? " 

" I really am grateful to the General," I assured 
her ; " but you see there is no reason he should do 
more for me than for others." 

" Oh, but there is reason. You have suffered 
more than the rest. You have been driven from 
your home ! Your house has been sacked. George 
knows all about you. I have brought a basket for 
you — tea, coffee, sugar, crackers." 

" I cannot accept it, I am so sorry." 

" But what are you going to do ? Are you going 
to starve ? " 

" Very likely," I said, " but somehow I shall not 
very much mind ! " 

" Oh, this is too utterly, utterly dreadful ! " said 
the lady as she left the room. 

The next day the ration was changed. Fresh 



380 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

beef, canned vegetables, bread, and coffee were issued 
to all the women of Petersburg. Mrs. Hartsuff 
came daily to see me. " Not that George has 
gotten over it ! " she declared. " His feelings are 
constantly hurt here. And as to myself, that old 
black Irene I found in the kitchen at Centre Hill 
just walks over me ! " 

" Why don't you dismiss her ? " 

" Dismiss Irene t I should like to see anybody 
dismiss Irene ! Besides, she cooks divinely. But 
I can't enter her kitchen ! c Dear me,' I said one 
day, c what a dirty kitchen ! ' ' Ladies don't nuvver 
come in kitchens,' she told me. Evidently I am 
not a lady ! And I once asked her please to be 
careful of the gold studs the General was apt to leave 
in his cuffs. ' Gold studs ! ' she repeated with a sniff, 
' my master wore diamond studs, an' I never see 
cuffs loose from shirts before in all my born days. 
'Cose the wind'll blow 'em away ! I can't be 'spon- 
sible for no shirt that's in three or four pieces.' " 

All the good citizens of Petersburg who had been 
driven away by the shelling now began to return, 
and among them came the owners of the house I 
was occupying. I was told that I could, on no 
account, be safe at Cottage Farm without a guard. 
For this, too, I must make personal request. So my 
little body-guard and I wended our way to interview 
General Hartsuff. 

We found him in the noble mansion of the Boi- 
lings. At the entrance two fine greyhounds in 
marble had for many years guarded the incoming 
and outgoing of the Boiling family. In the rear 



Interviewing General Hartsuff 381 

there was a long veranda with lofty pillars, and 
beyond, extensive grounds set with well-grown ever- 
greens, and with that princely tree, the Magnolia 
grandiflora, now in bloom. White marble statues 
and marble seats were scattered through the grounds. 
A rustic staircase led down to a conservatory, built 
low for the better care of the plants. The mansion 
stood on an eminence sloping sharply in front, and 
a legend-haunted subterranean passage led from the 
dwelling to the street, the entrance to which was 
covered by shrubs and vines. 

As I stood in the veranda waiting for audience, a 
young officer called my attention to the beauty of 
the grounds and the magnificence of the flowering 
plants in tubs on the veranda. " I should like," he 
said, " to fight it out on this line all summer." 

I thought of the family driven from their own, 
and was wicked enough to tell him : — 

" That would be most unfortunate for you. This 
place is very sickly in summer — deadly, in fact. 
Typhoid fever is fatal in this section." 

But I was summoned to the presence of the great 
man. As I entered, he continued writing at a 
table, without greeting me or looking up from his 
paper. 

" General," I commenced, " I have come to ask 
if I may have a guard. I am about to return to my 
home — Cottage Farm." 

No answer, except the rapid scratching of his pen 
as it travelled over his sheet. 

" General Hartsuff, are you still angry with me 
because I did not feel I could accept your kind offer ? 



382 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

I couldn't take it ! I couldn't trust myself with it ! 
I should have given a ball and ruined you." 

He laughed outright at this and threw down his 
pen. 

" It is impossible for you to go to Cottage 
Farm," he said ; " there are fifty or more negroes 
on the place. You cannot live there." 

" I must! it is my only shelter." 

" Well, then, I'll allow you a guard, and Mrs. 
Hartsuff had better take you out herself, that is, 
if you can condescend to accept as much." 

I was not aware that Mrs. Hartsuff had entered 
and stood behind me. 

" And I think, George," she said, " you ought to 
give Mrs. Pryor a horse and cart in place of her 
own that were stolen." 

" All right, all right," he said hastily. " Madam, 
you will find the guard at your door when you arrive. 
You go this evening? All right — good morning." 

Mrs. Hartsuff duly appeared in the late after- 
noon with an ambulance and four horses, and we 
departed in fine style. She was very cheery and 
agreeable, and made me promise to let her come 
often to see me. As we were galloping along in 
state, we passed a line of weary-looking, dusty 
Confederate soldiers, limping along, on their way 
to their homes. They stood aside to let us pass. 
I was cut to the heart at the spectacle. Here was 
I, accepting the handsome equipage of the invading 
commander — I, who had done nothing, going 
on to my comfortable home ; while they, poor fel- 
lows, who had borne long years of battle and star- 



Home-coming after War 383 

vation, were mournfully returning on foot, to find, 
perhaps, no home to shelter them. " Never again," 
I said to myself, " shall this happen ! If I cannot 
help, I can at least suffer with them." 

But when J reached Cottage Farm I found a 
home that no soldier, however forlorn, could have 
envied me. A scene of desolation met my eyes. 
The earth was ploughed and trampled, the grass 
and flowers were gone, the carcasses of six dead 
cows lay in the yard, and filth unspeakable had 
gathered in the corners of the house. The evening 
air was heavy with the sickening odor of decaying 
flesh. As the front door opened, millions of flies 
swarmed forth. 

" If this were I," said Mrs. Hartsuff, as she 
gathered her skirts as closely around her as her 
hoops would permit, " I should fall across this 
threshold and die." 

" I shall not fall," I said proudly ; " I shall stand 
in my lot." 

Within was dirt and desolation. Pieces of fat 
pork lay on the floors, molasses trickled from the 
library shelves, where bottles lay uncorked. Filthy, 
malodorous tin cans were scattered on the floors. 
Nothing, not even a tin dipper to drink out of the 
well, was left in the house, except one chair out of 
which the bottom had been cut, and one bedstead 
fastened together with bayonets. Picture frames 
were piled against the wall. I eagerly examined 
them. Every one was empty. One family por- 
trait of an old lady was hanging on the wall with a 
sabre-cut across her face. 



384 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

" Now, what in the world are you going to do ? " 
asked Mrs. Hartsuff. 

" The best I can," I said. 

But old Aunt Jinny had espied me, and, with a 
courtesy to Mrs. Hartsuff, had seized my little girl. 

" This is a hard home-coming for you, my po' 
lamb! But never mind! Jinny has got plenty 
of clean bedclothes and things. Yes, marm (to 
Mrs. Hartsuff), I can take care of 'em ! The 
colored people ? Oh, the colored people will give 
no trouble. They are very peaceable." 

She gathered us into her kitchen while she swept 
a room for us and spread quilts upon the floor. 
Later in the evening an ambulance from Mrs. 
Hartsuff drove up. She had sent me a tin box of 
bread-and-butter sandwiches, some tea, an army cot, 
and army bedding. 

The guard, a great, tall fellow, came to me for 
orders. I felt nervous at his presence and wished 
I had not brought him. I directed him to watch 
all night at the road side of the house, while I 
would sit up and keep watch in the opposite direc- 
tion. The children soon slept upon the floor. 

As the night wore on, I grew extremely anxious 
about the strange negroes. Aunt Jinny thought 
there were not more than fifty. They had filled 
every outhouse except the kitchen. Suppose they 
should overpower the guard and murder us all. 

Everything was quiet. I had not the least dis- 
position to sleep — thinking, thinking, of all the 
old woman had told me of the sacking of the house, 
of the digging of the cellar in search of treasure, of 



The Lonely Vigil at Night 385 

the torch that had twice been applied to the house, 
and twice withdrawn because some officer wanted 
the shaded dwelling for a temporary lodging. Pres- 
ently I was startled by a shrill scream from the 
kitchen, a door opened suddenly and shut, and 
a voice cried, " Thank Gawd ! Thank Gawd 
A'mighty." Then all was still. 

Was this a signal ? I held my breath and lis- 
tened, then softly rose, closed the shutters and 
fastened them, crept to the door, and bolted it 
inside. I might defend my children till the guard 
could come. 

Evidently he had not heard ! He was probably 
sleeping the sleep of an untroubled conscience on 
the bench in the front porch. And with untroubled 
consciences my children were sleeping. It was so 
dark in the room I could not see their faces, but I 
could touch them, and push the wet locks from 
their brows, as they lay in the close and heated 
atmosphere. 

I resumed my watch at the window, pressing my 
face close to the slats of the shutters. A pale half- 
moon hung low in the sky, turning its averted face 
from a suffering world. At a little distance I could 
see the freshly made soldier's grave which Alick had 
discovered and reported. A heavy rain had fallen 
in the first hours of the night, and a stiff arm and 
hand now protruded from the shallow grave. To- 
morrow I would reverently cover the appealing arm, 
be it clad in blue or in gray, and would mark the 
spot. Now, as I sat with my fascinated gaze upon 
it, I thought of the tens of thousands, of the hun- 



386 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

dreds of thousands, of upturned faces beneath the 
green sod of old Virginia. Strong in early man- 
hood, brave, high-spirited men of genius, men 
whom their country had educated for her own 
defence in time of peril, — they had died because 
that country could devise in her wisdom no better 
means of settling a family quarrel than the whole- 
sale slaughter of her sons by the sword. And now ? 
" Not till the heavens be no more shall they awake 
nor be raised out of their sleep." 

And then, as I sorrowed for their early death in 
loneliness and anguish, I remembered the white- 
robed souls beneath the altar of God, — the souls 
that had " come out of great tribulation," — and 
because they had thus suffered " they shall hunger 
no more, neither thirst any more ; . . . and God 
shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." 

And then, as the pale, distressful moon sank 
behind the trees, and the red dawn streamed up 
from the east, the angel of Hope, who had " spread 
her white wings and sped her away " for a little 
season, returned. And Hope held by the hand an 
angel stronger than she, who bore to me a message : 
" In the world ye have tribulation : but be of good 
cheer; I have overcome the world." 

The sun was rising when I saw my good old 
friend emerge from her kitchen, and I opened the 
shutters to greet her. She had brought me a cup 
of delicious coffee, and was much distressed because 
I had not slept. Had I heard anything? 

" Course I know you was bleeged to hear," said 
Aunt Jinny, as she bustled over the children. " That 



An Address to Homeless Negroes 387 

was Sis' Winny ! She got happy in the middle of the 
night, an' Gawd knows what she would have done, 
if Frank hadn't ketched hold of her and pulled her 
back in the kitchen ! Frank an' me is pretty nigh 
outdone an' discouraged 'bout Sis' Winny. She 
prays constant all day ; but Gawd A'mighty don't 
count on bein' bothered all night. Ain' He 'ranged 
for us all to sleep, an' let Him have a little peace? 
Sis' Winny must keep her happiness to herself, when 
folks is trying to git some res'." 

The guard now came to my window to say he 
" guessed " he'd " have to put on some more har- 
ness. Them blamed niggers refused to leave. 
They might change their minds when they saw the 
pistols." 

" Oh, you wouldn't shoot, would you ? " I said, 
in great distress. " Call them all to the back door 
and let me speak with them." I found myself in 
the presence of some seventy-five negroes, men, 
women, and children, all with upturned faces, keenly 
interested in what I should say to them. 

I talked to them kindly, and told them I was 
sorry to see so many of them without homes. One 
of them, an intelligent-looking man, interrupted me. 

" We are not without homes," he said. " I planted 
and worked on this place for years before the war. 
It is right I should have some choice in the land 
the government promises us, and I have come here 
because I shall ask for the land I have worked." 

" You are mistaken, I am sure," I said. " This 
farm belongs to my brother, not to me. I am here 
through his kindness, and I am perfectly willing 



388 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

you should remain through mine until you find 
other shelter, provided you consider my husband 
master here, give no trouble, and help me clean up 
this place. All who are not willing to do this must 
leave. You must distinctly understand this is 
private property which will be protected by the 
government." 

" That's so ! " said the guard, emphatically. 
Thereupon an old, gray-haired man stepped forth 
and said : — 

" My name's Abram ! I'se toted Marse Roger 
on my back to school many a time. Me an' my 
family will stay an' clean up, an' thank you, Mistis ! 
Come now ! You all hear what the Yankee gentle- 
man say ! Git to work now on them dead cows — 
hurry up ! " 

I sent Abram to the quartermaster, and bor- 
rowed a team to haul away the filth and the dead 
animals. My faithful old friend in the kitchen lent 
me chairs and a table, and before night we were 
comparatively clean, having had a score or more 
scrubbers, and as many out-of-door laborers at 
work. My husband returned to us, and we com- 
menced our new life of hopeless destitution. Not 
before October could I get my consent to eat a 
morsel in the house. I took my meals under the 
trees, unless driven by the rains to the shelter of the 
porch. The old woman who had been so unreason- 
ably happy — " Sis' Winny " — proved to be a mere 
atom of a creature, withered, and bent almost double 
with age and infirmities, whom Aunt Jinny had 
taken in out of sheer compassion. If she could 



Faithful Old Family Servants 389 

find something for which to thank God, surely none 
need despair. 

To my great joy, my dear General had not 
remained in Richmond. There was no hope there 
for immediate occupation. His profession of law, for 
which he had been educated, promised nothing, 
for the very good reason that he had forgotten all 
he ever knew in his later profession of editor and 
politician. The latter field was closed to him for- 
ever. There was nothing for a rebel to earn in 
editing a newspaper. 



CHAPTER XXVI 



STARTING LIFE ANEW 



WE suffered terribly during the ensuing 
months for want of something in which 
we might occupy ourselves. We sat 
silently, looking out on a landscape marked here 
and there by chimneys standing sentinel over the 
blackened heaps where our neighbors had made 
happy homes. A few books had been saved, only 
those for which we had little use. A soldier walked 
in one day with a handsome volume which Jef- 
ferson Davis, after inscribing his name in it, had pre- 
sented to the General. The soldier calmly requested 
the former owner to be kind enough to add to the 
value of the volume by writing beneath the inscrip- 
tion his own autograph, and, his request granted, 
walked off with it under his arm. "He has been 
at some trouble," said my husband, " and he had 
as well be happy if I cannot ! " 

As the various brigades moved away from our 
neighborhood a few plain articles of furniture that 
had been taken from the house were restored to us, 
but nothing handsome or valuable, no books, pic- 
tures, bric-a-brac, or house-furnishings of any kind — 
just a few chairs and tables. I had furnished an 

39° 



Request for Pedigree of Stolen Mare 391 

itemized list of all the articles we had lost, with only 
this result.' 

We had news after a while of our blooded mare, 
Lady Jane. A letter enclosing her photograph 
came from a New England officer : — 

« To Mr. Pryor, 

" Dear Sir : A very fine mare belonging to you came 
into my camp near Richmond and is now with me. It 
would add much to her value if I could get her pedigree. 
Kindly send it at your earliest convenience, and oblige 

" Yours truly, 



" P.S. The mare is in good health, as you will doubtless 
be glad to know." 

Disposed as my General was to be amiable, this 
was a little too much ! The pedigree was not sent. 

A great number of tourists soon began to pass 
our house on their way to visit the localities near 
us, now become historic. They wished to stand on 
the site of General Lee's headquarters, to pluck a 
blade of grass from the hollow of the crater, to visit 
the abattis, lunettes, and fortifications of both lines, 
especially Fort Steadman, Fort Gregg, and Battery 
45, where the lines were broken the last of March 
and on April 1. 

These tourists, men and women, would pause at 
the well, some on horseback, others in the dilapi- 
dated landaus or buggies for hire in Petersburg. 
Uncle Frank, with his flow of courteous language 
and his attractive manners, would usually meet and 
discourse to them, earning many a douceur by drawing 



39 2 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

from the well the cold water for which it was famous. 
Abram's family was abroad in the fields, where the 
old man had planted corn in June — too late to hope 
for other harvest than the fodder to feed the horse 
the quartermaster had given him at my earnest 
request. Under the impression that we were still 
working our negroes, some of the tourists would 
dismount and harangue Abram at length upon his 
" rights." The old man would listen respectfully, 
shaking his gray head dubiously as they rode off. 
" Recollect, boy," said one of these travellers to 
Alick, " the white woman in that house is now your 
slave ! " Alick was standing beneath my window, 
amusing himself by tying up a rosebush. He looked 
up, simply advising me, — " Let 'em go 'long," — and 
resumed his work in training the rosebush. 

Sometimes the tourists would ask permission to 
call on us, claiming some common acquaintance. 
My husband was inclined to resent this. Their 
sympathetic attitude was offensive to him. Like the 
Douglas he had endured much, but — 

" Last and worst, to spirit proud 
To bear the pity of the crowd : " — 

this was more than he could endure. 

We were perfectly aware that they wished to see us, 
and not to gain, as they affected, information about 
the historic localities on the farm. Still less did they 
desire ignobly to triumph over us. A boy, when 
he tears off the wings of a fly, is much interested in 
observing its actions, not that he is cruel — far from 



Visits from Tourists 393 

it! He is only curious to see how the creature will 
behave under very disadvantageous circumstances. 

One day a clergyman called, with a card of intro- 
duction from Mrs. Hartsuff, who had, I imagine, 
small discernment as regards clergymen. This one 
was a smug little man, — sleek, unctuous, and trim, 
with Pecksniffian self-esteem oozing out of every 
pore of his face. 

" Well, Madam," he commenced, " I trust I find 
you lying meekly under the chastening rod of 
the Lord. I trust you can say ' it is good I was 
afflicted.' " 

Having no suitable answer just ready, I received 
his pious exhortation in silence. One can always 
safely do this with a clergyman. 

" There are seasons," continued the good man, 
"when chastisement must be meted out to the trans- 
gressor ; but if borne in the right spirit, the rod may 
blossom with blessings in the end." 

A little more of the same nature wrung from me 
the query, " Are there none on the other side who 
need the rod ? " 

"Oh — well, now — my dear lady! You must 
consider ! You were in the wrong in this unhappy 
contest, or, I should say, this most righteous war." 

" Va>. victis ! " I exclaimed. " Our homes were 
invaded. We are on our own soil ! " 

My reverend brother grew red in the face. Ris- 
ing and bowing himself out, he sent me a Parthian 
arrow : — 

" No thief e'er felt the halter draw 
With good opinion of the law." 



394 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

On the afternoon of a sultry day, a black cloud 
suddenly darkened the sky, thundered, lightened, and 
poured down a pelting storm of hailstones and rain. 
A party of young people galloped up to the gate, 
hastily dismounted, and ran for the shelter of our 
porch. There were half a dozen or more young 
girls and men. The small roof affording them scant 
shelter, I invited them into the parlor, where they 
stood dripping and shivering until a fire was kindled. 
A sudden cold wind came on with the hail. It had been 
a long time since I had seen happy, cheerful young 
girls in their riding-habits, and I fell in love with 
them at once, putting them at ease, chafing their 
hands, and drying their little coats. I never saw 
young folk so much embarrassed. They were 
Northern tourists, and felt the full force of our 
relative positions. When hot tea was brought in, 
they were overwhelmed. I was loath to give them 
up — these pretty girls. When they bade me good-by 
and thanked me for my nice tea and fire, the black 
eyes of one little beauty snapped with an unmistak- 
able expression — " for your coals of fire ! " 

Such incidents as these were our only events. 
Our friends in town were in too much poverty and 
sorrow to visit us. A deadly silence and apathy 
had succeeded the storm. It was a long time 
before the community waked up from this apathy 
— not, indeed, until the cool, invigorating weather 
of autumn. The blood-soaked soil and the dead 
animals emitted sickening odors until the frosts 
came to chain them up. 

A bachelor friend occasionally visited us and 



General Grant and the "Met Bullets" 395 

invited the little boys to accompany him upon relic- 
hunting expeditions to the narrow plain which had 
divided the opposing lines on that fateful April 
morning, just three months before. Ropes were 
fastened around extinct shells, and they were hauled 
in, to stand sentinel at the door. The shells were 
short cylinders, with one pointed end like a candle 
before it is lighted. Numbers of minie balls were 
dug out of the sand. 

One day Mr. Kemp brought in a great curiosity — 
two bullets welded together, having been shot from 
opposing rifles. 

Twenty years afterward I showed this twin-bullet 
to General Grant, not long before his last illness. 
With Mrs. Grant, he had called at my home in 
Brooklyn to inquire if I had good news of General 
Pryor, who was in England, having been sent by 
Irish Americans to see what could be done for O'Don- 
nell, the Irish prisoner. General Grant was much 
interested in this case. He found me at my late 
breakfast of tea, toast, and a dozen oysters, which 
were divided among the three of us. After break- 
fast I brought out the bullet. He laid it on the 
palm of his hand and looked at it long and earnestly. 

" See, General," I said, " the bullets are welded 
together so as to form a perfect horseshoe — a 
charm to keep away witches and evil spirits." 

But the General was not interested in amulets, 
charms, or evil spirits. After regarding it silently 
for a moment, he remarked : — 

" Those are minie balls, shot from rifles of equal 
caliber. And they met precisely equidistant to a 



39 6 



Reminiscences of Peace and War 



hair. This is very interesting, but it is not the only 
one in the world. I have seen one other, picked up 
at Vicksburg. Where was this found and when ? " 
he asked, as he handed the relic back to me. " At 
Petersburg, possibly." 

" Yes," I answered, " but not when you were shell- 
ing the city. It was 
picked up on our farm 
after the last fight." 

He looked at me 
with a humorous twin- 
kle in his eye. " Now 
look here," he said, 
" don't you go about 
telling people I 
shelled Petersburg." 
A short time be- 
fore his death, just 
before he was taken 
to Mount McGregor, 
he dictated a note to 
me, sending his kind 
regards to my Gene- 
ral, and saying he 
remembered with 
pleasure his talk with me over a cup of tea. 

But we must return (and I am sure I am pardoned 
for this disgression) to the weary life of enforced 
idleness at the cottage. 

I had no garments to mend or to make, no 
household to manage. The sultry days were 
begun and rounded by hours of listless endurance, 




Met Bullets found near Fort Gregg, 
1865. 



Yankees, Rats, and Malaria 397 

followed by troubled sleep. A bag of army " hard- 
tack " stood in a corner, so the children were never 
hungry. Presently they, too, sat around us, too 
listless to play or talk. A great army of large, 
light brown Norway rats now overran the farm. 
They would walk to the corner before our eyes 
and help themselves to the army ration. We never 
moved a ringer to drive them away. After a while 
Alick appeared with an enormous black-and-white 
cat. 

" Dis is jest a leetle mo'n I can stand," said 
Alick. " De Yankees has stole ev'rything, and 
dug up de whole face o' the yearth — and de Jews 
comes all de time and pizens de well, droppin' 
down chains an' grapplin'-irons to see ef we all has 
hid silver — but I ain' obleedged to stan' sassyness 
fum dese outlandish rats." 

Alick had to surrender. The very first night 
after the arrival of his valiant cat there was a scuffle 
in the room where the crackers were kept, a chair 
was overturned, and a flying cat burst through the 
hall, pursued by three or four huge rats. The cat 
took refuge in a tree, and, stealthily descending at 
an opportune moment, stole away and left the field 
to the enemy. 

Of course there could be but one result from 
this life. Malaria had hung over us for weeks, and 
now one after another of the children lay down 
upon the " pallets " on the floor, ill with fever. 
Then I succumbed and was violently ill. Our only 
nurse was my dear General ; and not in all the 
years when he never shirked duty, or lost a march, 



398 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

or rode on his own horse when his men had a toil- 
some march or if one of them failed by the way, 
and never lost one of the battles into which he 
personally led them, — not in all those trying times 
was he nobler, grander, than in his long and lonely 
vigils beside his sick family. And most nobly did 
the aged negress in the kitchen stand by us. My 
one fevered vision was of an ebony angel ! 

After we recovered, my dear husband was ill — 
ague and fever had fastened on him. When he, 
too, grew better, he would sit for days in hopeless 
despair, looking out on the desolate landscape. 

General HartsufF and his wife often visited us. 
They were terribly afraid of fever, and would send 
in messages from the gate while we were all so ill. 
But after we had recovered, General HartsufF came 
himself — and finally sent Captain Gregory, the 
commissary-general, to see me, and to reason 
seriously with me about the necessity of sending 
General Pryor away. He had never been pardoned. 
There were men in power who constantly hinted at 
punishment and retribution. General Pryor would 
die here. He should go to New York, go by sea, 
shake off the chills that shook him so relentlessly 
every third day, meet friends (many Southerners 
were in New York), and something might result 
for his benefit. 

This idea grew in our minds as feasible, if only 
we had the money. It had never occurred to me 
to make a second attempt (one had failed) to sell 
my watch. I now took it to a banker in Peters- 
burg, added to it a cherished antique cameo set in 



General Pryor goes to New York 399 

diamonds which had never left my finger since it 
was given me, like Shylock's turquoise from his 
Leah, when my husband " was a bachelor." 
Leaving these in pledge, I received three hundred 
dollars. I bought some quinine forthwith, ordered 
a suit of clothes to replace the threadbare Confed- 
erate gray, and sent Roger A. Pryor, the sometime 
"rebel," to New York, upon an experiment of which 
the most sanguine imagination could not have fore- 
seen the successful result. 

A difficult task lay before him. Ruined in for- 
tune, his occupation gone, his friends dead or im- 
poverished, his health impaired, his heart broken, 
he had yet to win support for a wife and seven 
children, and that in a hostile community. Only 
two things were left to him — the ability to work 
and the willingness to work. With what courage 
he commenced the study of his profession, what 
difficulties he surmounted, what rebuffs he bore 
with fortitude, I can give here no adequate idea. 
He labored incessantly, often breaking down and 
fainting, at his task. In one of his early letters he 
says, " Sometimes I sink in despair ; but then I rally 
and press on. Don't you think heaven will prosper 
me for your sake ? The obstacles to the success of 
1 a rebel ' in this city are almost insurmountable." 

He accepted a position on the Daily News which 
yielded him twenty-five dollars a week. Mean- 
while he must learn New York law. 

There has been too much sorrow already in this 
story. Why tell of all the anguish, all the suffering 
of the next years ? During the long, lonely winter 



4-00 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

of 1865 my husband nobly strove to sustain my 
hopes, and for his sake I would not allow my heart 
to break. 

One morning in January old Abram stood before 
me with a troubled face. 

" What we all goin' to do now for wood, Mistis ? " 

" What you have done all along, I suppose." 

" No'm. Dat's onpossible. We done burn up 
Fort Gregg an' Battery 45. Der ain' no mo' forti- 
fications on de place as I knows of." 

" Fortifications ! " I exclaimed. " Why, Abram ! 
you surely haven't been burning the fortifications? " 

" Hit's des like I tell you, Mistis. De las' stick's 
on yo' wood-pile now." 

"Well, Abram," I said gravely, "if we have 
destroyed our fortifications — burned our bridges — 
the time has come to change our base. We will 
move into town." 

And so we did — and my old friend the wolf was 
kept from the door to the tune of a piano, where I 
daily gave lessons to my neighbors' children. 

Eighteen months after he left me, I had the fol- 
lowing letter from my husband: — 

" Don't imagine I have the least idea of abandoning my 
experiment here. I mean ' to fight it out on this line,' 
to the end of the struggle. My practice increases slowly, 
but is based, I believe, on a conviction of my competency. 
Thank God, what I have accomplished, though small, has 
been achieved by my own unaided exertions and without 
the least obligation to a human being. I have no patron. 
I have never solicited business. My only arts are study 
and devotion to duty. These expedients may be slow of 



What is True Patriotism 401 

operation but they are sure, and they leave my dignity 
and self-respect uncompromised. I am not conscious of 
having received a favor since my residence in New York : 
and when the victory is achieved, I shall have inexpressible 
satisfaction in saying, with Coriolanus — ' alone I did it ! ' 
When I speak of ' favors,' I mean in the way of my 
profession. Of some personal kindness I have been the 
grateful recipient, — though not in many instances." 

Within two years I followed him with our chil- 
dren, and if I cannot say with Mr. Burke, " my 
adopted and my dearer " home, yet so warm and 
abounding was the welcome accorded us that we 
are attached to it by the strongest ties of gratitude 
and affection. 

The last time I visited Petersburg I drove out to 
her battle-fields. Nature had hidden the scars with 
beauty. The seeds of the daisy had been scattered 
wherever the Federal forces had been encamped, and 
they had whitened the fields and covered the graves 
by the wayside. Nature had not forgotten these 
lonely unmarked graves, nor will she ever forget, 
until time shall be no more. 

It is not easy to write about the dreadful war be- 
tween the North and the South. We press our 
breasts against a thorn when we recall the anguish 
of those days of death and disaster. It is often said 
that it is still too early to write the story of our Civil 
War. It will soon be too late. Some of us still 
live who saw those days. We should not shrink 
from recording what we know to be true. Thus 
only will a full history of American courage and 



4-02 Reminiscences of Peace and War 

fidelity be preserved, — for all were Americans. 
The glory of one is the glory of all — in 1861 when 
brothers were in conflict, as well as in 1898 when 
they stood shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart 
against a foreign foe. Circumstances do not rule the 
heart, and "where the heart is right, there is true 
patriotism." 



The Mother of Washington and 
Her Times 

By MRS. ROGER A. PRYOR 

With Many Illustrations 
Cloth Crown 8vo $2.50 net 



" One of the most charming books of the season is ' The Mother of Washington and 
Her Times,' by Mrs. Roger A. Pryor of New York City. It is by far the most accurate 
and lifelike pen portrait of this noble Colonial Dame ever published. Those who have 
the pleasure of reading Mrs. Pryor's book, as the writer has, with all the many authorities 
from which she quotes at hand, will fully appreciate the great labor required to prepare 
such a memoir. ... It is impossible to separate such a character from the times in 
which she lived. Mrs. Pryor has not only drawn an attractive likeness of this Virginia 
matron, but she has as attractively portrayed the history and manners of the day and 
locality in which she lived. This is an easy task only to a Virginian, or one who has 
long lived in the Old Dominion. ... It is doubtful if a fitter pen could be found to por- 
tray this feature of Virginia culture than Mrs. Pryor, who is ' to the manor born,' and 
was reared amid the memories of a past where, until the war for Southern independence, 
homes and lands were rarely changed, and families retained their social standing and 
customs from generation to generation." 

— Horace Edwin Hayden in the New York Titties. 

" The pictures which the author draws of Colonial society in Virginia are really very 
useful. After all to understand the people and things surrounding Washington's mother 
is to obtain a clearer notion of the manner of woman that she was. She was indubitably 
a type, one of those well-born women of the eighteenth century whose lives were power- 
fully governed by wholesome conventions. They all were taught the same lessons, not 
merely in the schoolroom, but in the sphere of morals and manners, and in a simpler day 
than our own they were apt to develop the same traits of courtesy, resourcefulness, and 
courage. Mary Washington was, in short, a representative woman. ... A good 
woman, with no brilliance of intellect, but well qualified to be the mother of a great man, 
Mrs. Pryor portrays in these pages. They are written in a smooth and interesting strain, 
and they are lavishly illustrated with portraits and views." — The Tribune, New York. 

" Mrs. Pryor's book is thrice welcome. Although it is written along strictly historical 
lines, it is more fascinating than any novel. . . . The illustrations of the volume are 
many and beautiful, particularly the portraits in color." — The Boston Transcript. 

" Mrs. Washington's English ancestry, traditions, and childhood experiences are 
delightfully described, while the many half-tone illustrations and color reproductions of 
valuable portraits and paintings will give an opportunity of examining treasures which 
otherwise would have been inaccessible." — The Chicago Evening Post. 

" Around the slender thread of her story, for really very little is known of her, Mrs. 
Pryor has twisted a pretty chain made of the anecdotes and incidents of her contempo- 
raries, who lived the sort of life we have reason to suppose she carried on; there are 
many pleasing stories, and the habits and customs of the times are quaintly illustrated 
from old memoirs and journals and letters." — Springfield Republican. 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 



